“He hasn’t left you, has he?”
“Yes; he’s cleared out, the ungrateful young imp! I’d like to lay my hands on the young rascal.”
“Was he your son?”
“He was my—stepson,” answered Tim, hesitating.
“I see, you married his mother.”
“Yes,” said Tim, considering the explanation satisfactory, and resolved to adopt it. “I’ve always treated him as if he was my own flesh and blood, and I’ve raised him from a young kid. Now he’s gone and left me.”
“Can you think of any reason for his leaving you?”
“Not one. I always treated him well. He’s been a great expense to me, and now he’s got old enough to help me he must clear out. He’s the most ungrateful cub I ever seen.”
“I am sorry he has gone—I used to like to have him serve me.”
“And now what’s the consequence? Here I am tied down to the bar day and night.”