“What! Beat his father!” exclaimed Paul, indignantly.
“He might,” said the old man. “He wasn’t a good boy like you. He always gave me trouble.”
“Are you really afraid he will come, grand—Jerry?” asked Paul, earnestly.
“Yes, he is sure to come—he said so.”
“Then I think we had better move to another place where he can’t find us.”
“Yes—yes—let us go,” said the old man, hurriedly. “But, but,” he added, with a sudden thought, “we have paid the rent here to the end of the month. I can’t afford to lose that—I am so poor.”
“It will only be a dollar and a half; I will pay it,” said Paul.
“Then I think I shall go. When shall we leave, Paul?”
“This evening, Jerry, if I can get the time. I may have to stay up town to guard a house where the gentleman is absent, but it isn’t certain. If I do, I will be here early in the morning, before I go to work.”
This assurance seemed to abate the apprehensions of the old man, who, it was evident, stood in great fear of his son. Paul was obliged to take a hurried leave of him in order to have time for lunch before returning to the office.