“You write a pretty good hand for a boy who hasn’t been to school more than you have,” said Leon.
“Keep your compliments for them that need them,” said Carl, snappishly. “I don’t care to hear them.”
“You haven’t got through with this business yet,” said Leon, in a voice which he meant should carry conviction with it. “You found this resolution on a tree, and you tore it down so that people couldn’t see it. I intend that you shall go back and post this thing up there.”
“But you told me I should have to help my uncle carry out his things,” said Carl, anxious to shirk all the responsibility he could.
“Oh, we’ll wait until you carry out your things,” said Leon, with a smile. “You are going right by the tree, and it won’t hurt you at all to stop and nail this thing up.”
Carl gathered up the pen and ink and disappeared in the house, and Leon and Tom went down the steps to join the men who were sitting there.
“I got it, but I had hard work in getting it, too,” said Leon. “How much longer time has he got?”
“Not quite fifteen minutes,” said Mr. Sprague.
“And I see he is hustling things more lively than he did. You won’t start the fire when the quarter of an hour is up, seeing that he is doing the best he can to get them out?”
“Oh, no. I wanted to see him get to work, that is all.”