“Oh, yes,” said Herbert. “He saw that he had hold of the wrong customer, and tramped off in a different direction.”
“What would you have done if you had been in Andy’s place last night?”
“I wouldn’t have let him in.”
“But do you think you could have driven him off?”
“Certainly,” answered Herbert, confidently. “Andy did very well,” he added, condescendingly; “but I should have succeeded as well in keeping the rascal out of the house.”
“Why don’t you offer to stay at the house to-night? No doubt, Andy will be glad to rest?”
“I don’t let myself out for any such purpose,” said Herbert, hastily. “He is a poor boy, and needs the money. You wouldn’t expect a gentleman’s son to engage in any such business?”
“Andy is a gentleman’s son. If ever there was a gentleman, Mr. Gordon was one.”
“No doubt he was a very worthy man,” said Herbert, patronizingly; “but that isn’t what I mean.”
Herbert succeeded in his wish to draw attention to himself, and told the story of his encounter with the tramp and burglar many times—adding a little every time—till, by dint of repetitions, he persuaded himself that he had acted a very heroic part, and was entitled to share the honors of the day with Andy.