Philip had one thing in his favor: He had plenty of self-control, and, although he was very indignant at the course of the squire, which he regarded as unjustifiable, he made up his mind to be as respectful as circumstances would permit.
“I don’t think you understand me, Squire Pope,” he said. “I refuse to give up the violin!”
“You refuse to give up the violin!” repeated Squire Pope, scarcely believing the testimony of his ears. “Do I hear you aright?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I never saw such impudence!” ejaculated Nick Holden, wishing to egg on the squire.
“Do you mean to defy me to my face?” demanded Squire Pope, growing very red.
“I don’t wish to defy you or anybody else,” returned Philip; “but I shall stand up for my rights.”
“Misguided boy!” said the squire severely; “you will yet rue this rash and heedless course. Frank,” he continued, turning to Frank Dunbar, “do you know where Philip’s violin is!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do me the favor to bring it out and place it in my hands.”