Disappointed, Pietro now turned back, and bent his steps to the ferry. But he saw nothing of Phil on the way.
“I would like to beat him, the little wretch!” he said to himself, angrily. “If I had not been too late for the boat, I would have easily caught him.”
It never occurred to Pietro that Phil might have taken the cars for a more distant point, as he actually did. The only thing he could think of, for he was not willing to give up the pursuit, was to go back. He remained in Jersey City all day, wandering about the streets, peering here and there; but he did not find Phil, for a very good reason.
The padrone awaited his report at night with some impatience. Phil was one of the smartest boys he had, and he had no mind to lose him.
“Did you find him, Pietro?” he asked as soon as his nephew entered his presence.
“I saw him,” said Pietro.
“Then why did you not bring him back?”
Pietro explained the reason. His uncle listened attentively.
“Pietro, you are a fool,” he said, at length.
“Why am I a fool?” asked Pietro, sullenly.