"The underhanded rascal!" was Mr. Sanderson's comment.
"That's just what he is," answered Tom. "You know we had a lot of trouble with him last year—and evidently we are not done with him yet," he added, as he thought of what Belright Fogg had said concerning the snowball thrown by Sam.
Tom wanted to say a good word for Songbird, and the opportunity came when, a few minutes later, and before their departure, Minnie invited them to partake of some cake and hot coffee. While Grisley sat down in the dining-room, the youth talked to the farmer.
"Now, Mr. Sanderson, I have done what I could for you," he said, coming at once to the point; "and now I want to say a word or two about poor Songbird. He feels awfully bad over this matter, and he thinks that you are doing him an injustice. And let me say I think so too," and Tom looked the farmer squarely in the eyes as he spoke.
"Yes, I know, Rover, but——"
"Now, Mr. Sanderson, supposing you had been in Songbird's place and had been knocked down and nearly killed; what would you say if you were treated as you are treating him? Wouldn't you be apt to think that it was a pretty mean piece of business?"
At these plain words the farmer flushed and for the instant some angry words came to his lips. But then he checked himself and turned his eyes away.
"Maybe you are right, and maybe I was a bit hasty with the lad," he said hesitatingly. "But you see I was all worked up. It took me a good many years to save that four thousand dollars, and now that I am getting old it won't be no easy matter for me to save that amount over again."
"You won't have to save it over again, Mr. Sanderson. Songbird insists upon it that just as soon as he gets to work he's going to pay you back dollar for dollar."
"Did he tell you that?"