“I can’t help it, Rudolph,” said the boy wearily; “I’m tired.”
“What business have you to be tired?”
“I’ve walked far to-day.”
“You’ve walked no further than I. I don’t dawdle like you.”
“You’re a man. You’re stronger than I am, Rudolph.”
“And you’re a milksop,” said the man contemptuously.
I’m nothing of the sort,” said the boy, with a flash of spirit. “I’m not made of cast iron, and that’s why I can’t stand walking all day long. Besides, I have had no dinner.”
“That isn’t my fault, is it?”
“I didn’t say it was, but it makes me weak for all that.”
“Well,” said Rudolph, “perhaps you’re right. I feel like eating something myself. We’ll go to some house and ask for supper.”