“No, why should I?”
“That’s the way my substance is wasted on the shiftless and undeservin’!”
“Mr. Winter, the two tramps, as you call them, were hungry, thin, and miserable. The man looked as if he had just got up from a fit of sickness. The boy was about ten and looked pale and famished. Wouldn’t you have given them something if you had been in my place?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” snarled Jacob.
“Then it seems to me you are the one that ought to feel ashamed.”
“What? what?” gasped Jacob, aghast. “You dare to stand there, Benjamin Bruce, and tell me to my face that I’d ought to be ashamed. You a mere boy, and I your stepfather!”
“I can’t help it if you are my stepfather. I’m sorry enough for it. If my mother had taken my advice she wouldn’t have married you.”
“Wuss and wuss!” ejaculated Jacob. “I didn’t know you was such a bad boy. You’ll come to the gallows some day, see if you don’t!”
“Look here, Mr. Winter; you call yourself a Christian, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. I’ve been a member of the church for nine and thirty years.”