“Rather,” I returned bitterly. And taking Ford aside I told him of all that had occurred.
“The mean rascal!” exclaimed the ex-mill-hand. “It would do me good to punch his head.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I went on. “If I go back he may do me up.”
“He wouldn’t if I was around,” replied Ford with a decided shake of the head.
“I am satisfied that he is a wicked man at heart,” I went on. “It is an awful surprise to me too, because I always heard father speak well of him.”
“You can’t tell how some men will act when they have a little power. He, no doubt, thinks he can boss you just as he pleases.”
“Well, he’ll find out that he is mistaken.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Ford said,—
“Tell you what to do, Rube. You go back and I’ll go with you.”