"Hey? Was that meant for an insult? But never mind! I don't pretend to be one of the goody-goody Sunday-school kids. Now mind you don't loiter on the way."
Oscar sat down on the doorstep and began to whittle.
The door opened and his father came out.
"Why didn't you go to the saloon as I told you?" he asked hastily.
"It's all the same. I sent Philip."
"You sent that boy? He ain't fit to send on such an errand."
"Why ain't he? He can ask to have the bottle filled, can't he?"
"What did he say? Was he willing to go?"
"He said his papa," mimicked Oscar, "didn't want him to go into a liquor saloon."
"He did, hey? All the more reason for making him go. His poverty-stricken father can't help him now. Why, I am keeping the boy from starving."