“Not all alone.”
“No? How’s that?”
“We have Mr. Merriwell.”
“Rot! I’m your uncle. It’s my duty to look after ye. I’ll take care of ye, and of the money ye make, too. Ha! ha! ha!”
The lame boy looked appealingly at Frank.
“You may be their uncle,” said Merry, “but you are not yet their guardian. There is the door.”
“What of it?” snarled old Joe. “You can’t drive me out! I won’t go! I’m goin’ to take charge of these orphans.”
“Not yet.”
“I will!”
“Not till the law gives you the right. Go!”