“How peaceful and beautiful everything looks this morning,” thought Gerald.
But though Gerald was right, the peacefulness of the scene was soon to be broken in upon by a human intruder on whom it produced no impression.
As Gerald sat in quiet contemplation the figure of a man approached rapidly. When he came nearer Gerald recognized his visitor as Jake Amsden.
There was something hostile in Jake’s appearance, and there was an ugly look on his face that indicated anything but friendship.
“Hallo, you young rascal!” he called out roughly, when he arrived within earshot. “Why don’t you answer me?” he continued as Gerald remained silent.
“I am no rascal, Mr. Amsden,” said Gerald in a dignified tone, “and I don’t choose to be called one.”
“Oh, you’re puttin’ on frills, are you?” retorted Jake, halting where he stood, and eying the boy with evident malevolence.
“If that’s what you call it, I am. If you will speak to me in a civil manner I will answer you.”
“Oh, you will, will you?” sneered Amsden. “You’ll answer me any way.”
“Have you any business with me?”