“He’s down on the road, sitting by the little bridge; but he said if anybody came with me he wouldn’t give me a cent.”
“Look here, Chap,” cried Phil, “if uncle is down there I’m bound to see him and tell him what is going on here. He has some reason for not wanting to come back just now, but he don’t know what a dreadful condition things are in. Here is a quarter,” he said to the boy, “so you won’t lose anything. Just you stay here a few minutes. I’ll cut over the fields to the bridge,” he said to Chap, as he ran down the steps.
“Aren’t you going to take him the gun?” said Chap.
“No!” cried Phil, as he hurried off. “When he hears what I have to tell he won’t want to go gunning.”
The boy now started to go.
“Just you sit down and rest yourself,” said Chap, stepping in front of him.
“But I’m not tired,” said the boy.
“Well, try how it goes to rest yourself when you are not tired,” said Chap. “It’s something you ought to learn, and you had better begin now. There’s a bench behind you.”
The boy reluctantly sat down, and Chap stood guard over him, determined to keep him there long enough to prevent him from giving notice to the man at the little bridge that Phil was coming.
