Peter suppressed a grin.
"Boys ought always to be considerate o' their fathers' feelin's," he conceded.
"And you know, Pete, that you want me to have the mustang. You said yourself that it was a shame for a big boy like me to be riding Toddles."
Peter folded his arms and studied the distance a moment with thoughtful eyes; then he faced his companion with the air of pronouncing an ultimatum.
"I'll tell ye what I'll do, Master Bobby, since ye're so anxious to save yer father's feelin's. I'll agree not to mention the matter, an' ye can take yer punishment from me at the end of a strap."
Bobby stared.
"Do you mean," he gasped, "that you want to whip me?"
"Well, no, I can't say as I want to, but I think it's me dooty. If ye was a stable-boy and I caught ye in a lie like that, I'd wallop ye till ye couldn't stand."
"I never was whipped in my life!"
"The more reason ye need it now. I've often thought, Master Bobby, that a thorough lickin' would do ye good."