“Yes.”
“Shall you go to Boston and bring him back?”
“Well, I might not find him easy, and it costs money to travel. But I expect he’ll be comin’ back himself. Two dollars won’t last him very long, and he’ll be glad enough to come home.”
“Will he have money enough to get back?”
“He may have to foot it, but it will do him good. He ought to suffer a little for his foolishness. Just keep the place open for him, Silas, and I’ll see that he comes as soon as he gets back.”
“All right, Mr. Winter. I always thought Ben was smart even if he is a bit headstrong, and I’d be glad to have him with me.”
Mr. Winter left the shoemaker’s somewhat encouraged. The place was still open to Ben, and he had not yet lost the fifty dollars a year which he was to receive by contract.
“We’ll see if a boy’s goin’ to get the best of me,” he soliloquized, nodding his head emphatically. “Ben’s got his mother on his side, but when Jacob Winter puts down his foot that settles it.”
The next morning, as Mrs. Winter was at work in the kitchen, there was a knock at the side door. Opening it she found her caller to be a man well known about the village, Jonathan Smith by name. He was elderly and a bachelor, and acted as janitor of one of the churches.
“How are you, Jonathan?” she said.