“I won't give it to you!” said Phil boldly.
“You won't, hey? Then I shall have to take it. If I hurt you, you will have yourself to blame.”
So saying the man seized Phil, and then a struggle ensued, the boy defending himself as well as he could. He made a stouter resistance than the thief anticipated, and the latter became irritated with the amount of trouble he had to take it. I should be glad to report that Phil made a successful defense, but this was hardly to be expected. He was a strong boy, but he had to cope with a strong man, and though right was on his side, virtue in his case had to succumb to triumphant vice.
Phil was thrown down, and when prostrate, with the man's knee on his breast, the latter succeeded in stripping him of the money he had so bravely defended.
“There, you young rascal!” he said, as he rose to his feet; “you see how much good you have done. You might as well have given up the money in the first place.”
“It was my duty to keep it from you, if I could,” said Phil, panting with his exertions.
“Well, if that's any satisfaction to you, you're welcome to it.”
He went to the door and unlocked it.
“May I go now?” asked Phil.
“Not much. Stay where you are!”