“I am sure we shall, Howard,” returned Harry, cordially, who felt attracted toward his new friend, in spite of the misfortune which his arrival would bring to him personally.
Just then, within a quarter of a mile of the store, Harry saw his young enemy, Philip Ross, approaching him.
Philip was driving his buggy, which had been repaired since the accident.
“I wonder if he will turn out for me?” thought Harry.
Philip had learned wisdom from experience, and did turn out for the store wagon. He knew Harry’s firmness too well to put it to the test a second time at his own expense.
“Good-morning, Philip,” said Harry, in his usual manner.
Philip did not notice Harry’s salutation, but held his head very high, while his face reddened and his lip curled as he drove by his late antagonist.
“Who is that boy?” asked Howard, whose attention was drawn to Philip’s singular conduct.
“Philip Ross, son of Colonel Ross, a rich man in town.”
“Is he deaf?”