Publisher's Synopsis
Larribee was plain no good. Larribee was low. The Dents did not have to do much thinking. The fact was clear after a single half day of their cousin's company. His father's letter had pointed out that he sent the young man into the Far West-meaning, in those days, anything west of the Mississippi-in the hope that he might find himself. He said that he had given Alfred every opening and encouragement that he could, but the boy was averse to labour. He hoped that Wilbur Dent would be able to make a man of him; "But," said the letter, "you'll find Alfred very odd."