“Well, I won’t do it,” said Nat.
“If you don’t do it I will tell pap.”
“You can run and tell him as soon as you please. If you want shoes, go to work and earn the money.”
Caleb waited to hear no more. He dropped the milk bucket as if it were a coal of fire and walked as straight toward the house as he could go. He slammed the door behind him but in two minutes he reappeared, accompanied by his father. Things began to look dark for Nat.
“There, sir, I have lost my shoes,” said he. “If Uncle Jonas takes these away from me he will be the meanest man I ever saw. They are mine and I don’t see why I can not be allowed to keep them.”
When Jonas came up he did not appear so cross as he usually did. In fact he tried to smile, but Nat knew there was something back of it.
“Hallo, where did you get them shoes, Natty?” was the way in which he began the conversation.
“I got them down to the store,” was the reply, “and Caleb wants me to buy him a pair; but I have not got the money to do it.”
“Don’t you reckon you could find two extry dollars somewhere?” said Jonas.
“No, nor one dollar. I will tell you what I will do,” said Nat, seeing that the smile of his uncle’s face speedily gave way to his usual fierce frown. “I will tell you right where my money is hidden and then Caleb can go and find it.”