Squire Collins was rather embarrassed. He saw clearly that his son had been in the wrong, yet he was inclined to stand by him. Moreover, it chafed him that a poor boy should have presumed to interfere with his son, much more use violence towards him.
He drew out his handkerchief and blew his nose, partly to gain time for consideration. At length he spoke.
"My son feels very indignant at your presumption in assaulting him," he said, "and I wonder myself that you didn't see the impropriety of attacking the son of your employer."
"Would you have had me stand by and see Johnny beaten?" asked Mark, indignantly.
"I do not feel disposed to argue with you," said the squire, in a dignified tone. "I feel compelled to take some action in the matter though I regret it. I cannot, of course, retain you in my employ. You are discharged. I have made up your account to date, and here is the sum due you."
"Very well, sir," answered Mark, quietly, though his heart sank within him.
Squire Collins handed him a dollar and thirty-seven cents, and Mark, putting them into his pocket, bowed and withdrew.
He went back to the room where his hat hung, and taking it down, said to his fellow-workmen:
"Good-bye, boys, I shan't be with you any longer."
"Why, Mark, what's the matter!" asked his next neighbor.