“You have entirely too much impudence, boy. I will not have these pert answers.”
“Dunno how you’re goin’ to help it. My tongue’s jist as hard to manage as my legs.”
“You have got to manage it, then,” cried Mr. Wilson, in sudden anger. “If not here, then somewhere else. Your insolence is getting unbearable.”
“You didn’t hire me, and I ain’t taking no discharge from you.”
“I’ll see if you won’t,” cried Wilson.
“Now you get back to your end of the ship, and don’t be annoying a gentleman at his work,” said Will, impatiently. “You’re worse than a bad oyster. You’d best slide if you know when your mother’s pet is well off.”
“Why you insolent, rascally young beggar!” Mr. Wilson could hardly speak for rage. “That comes from taking vagrants off the street. You shall get out of this store, or I will.”
Ten minutes after, Will received a peremptory summons to the office.
He walked back with his most independent air, entered the office, and coolly helped himself to a chair opposite Mr. Leonard, who was seated alone.
“I am sorry, Will, that there is such a break between you and Mr. Wilson. I will have to support him. You must go,” said the merchant.