“The violin is mine, Squire Pope,” said Philip firmly, “and I mean to keep it!”
“You talk like an ignorant boy. As a minor, you had no claim to the possession of any article except your clothing. I judged it best that the violin should be sold at the auction, and it is presumptuous for you to set up your judgment against mine!”
“I don’t take that view of it,” said Philip, and then he stopped.
He knew it was of no use to argue against the squire, who was obstinate to the verge of pig-headedness, if I may be allowed to use the expression. He felt that it would be only wasting his breath.
“It is quite immaterial how you view the subject,” said the squire pompously. “My mind is made up, and my resolution is not likely to be shaken by a boy.”
“Then, sir,” answered Philip, in a respectful tone but with a slight smile, “it is hardly worth while for me to say any more.”
“I am glad you have arrived at so sensible a conclusion,” said Squire Pope. “I take it that you have the violin here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then bring it out and give it to me.”
Now came the critical point, when Philip must array himself in determined opposition to Squire Pope. He felt that he was entirely in the right; still he regretted the necessity of the antagonism.