Mr. Ray had become pompous, and by his manner made it clear that he considered him self a man of great consequence. He was a local magistrate, and had for years endeavored to obtain a nomination for Congress.
Had he been of popular manners he would probably have succeeded, but he was not a favorite among the poorer classes, and their vote must be considered.
There is an old saying, "Like father, like son," and Clarence, now turned sixteen, the only child of the country magnate, was like his father in all objectionable qualities. He was quite as much impressed with ideas of his own consequence.
It was about three o'clock in the afternoon. Mr. Ray sat on the piazza, the day being unusually warm, reading a newspaper. In the street, near by, his son Clarence was moving swiftly on a new bicycle which his father had just purchased for him.
"Out of the way, there!" he called out, as a shabbily-dressed stranger with a weary step plodded along the pathway.
Whether because he was hard of hearing or because his mind was preoccupied, the stranger did not heed the warning, and Clarence, who might easily have avoided the collision, ran into him recklessly. Had the bicycle been moving at a greater rate of speed, he might have been seriously hurt. As it was, he was nearly thrown down.
But he rallied, and seizing the offending rider with no gentle grasp, dragged him from the wheel and shook him vigorously.
"Let me alone, you tramp!" exclaimed Clarence, furiously.
But the stranger did not release his hold.
"Not till you apologize for running into me," he answered sternly.