“Wicked, ungrateful boy!” exclaimed the padrone, wrathfully. “It was my money that you spent. You are a thief!”
Phil felt that this was a hard word, which he did not deserve. The money was earned by himself, though claimed by the padrone. But he did not venture to say this. It would have been revolutionary. He thought it prudent to be silent.
“Why do you say nothing?” exclaimed the padrone, stamping his foot. “Why did you spend my money?”
“I was hungry.”
“So you must live like a nobleman! Our supper is not good enough for you. How much did you spend?”
“Thirty cents.”
“For each?”
“No, signore, for both.”
“Then you shall have each fifteen blows, one for each penny. I will teach you to be a thief. Pietro, the stick! Now, strip!”
“Padrone,” said Phil, generously, “let me have all the blows. It was my fault; Giacomo only went because I asked him.”