Rough and Ready surveyed the approach of his stepfather with mingled anger and anxiety. He it was that held in his power the one whom the newsboy loved best. Rufus guessed his motive in seeking him now, and, knowing that he intended to speak to him, awaited his address in silence.
"Well, Rufus," said Mr. Martin, with a malicious grin, "how are you this morning?"
"I am well," said the newsboy, shortly.
"I am glad to hear it," said Martin; "I'd ought to feel glad of it, you've been such a dootiful son."
"I am not your son," said Rough and Ready, in a tone which indicated that he was very glad that no such relationship existed between them.
"That's lucky for me," said Martin; "I wouldn't own such a young cub. When I have a son, I hope he'll be more dootiful, and treat me with more gratitude."
"What should I be grateful for?" demanded the newsboy, quickly.
"Didn't I take care of you, and give you victuals and clothes for years?"
"Not that I know of," said Rufus, coolly. "I've had to support myself, and help support you, ever since we came to New York."
"So you complain of having to work, do you? 'Cause I was a poor man, and couldn't support you in idleness, you think you're ill used."