"Perhaps not," returned the boy, stung to madness. "But who bet fifty dollars on the election last fall? And maybe cheating isn't stealing, but—"
"Perry!" exclaimed Mrs. Morse. "Won't you stop? I cannot endure it."
Perry turned toward the pale little woman who, exhausted with grief, lay upon the lounge listening to this talk.
"Yes, mother, I will stop; but isn't it hard to be reproached for learning a lesson too well?"
I think Mr. Morse had it in his heart to strike his son to the floor, but he restrained himself, remembering his plan, which would bring a sweeter revenge, and to Perry a more bitter punishment.
"You'll soon be under another teacher, young man," he said quietly. "I have just written to brother John, and if he will take you, I'll apprentice you to him for the next two years."
"Father!" exclaimed Perry, in utter dismay. "You won't do that?"
"I will do just that!"
"I will never go there."
"We shall see."