Herbert did not reply, but waited for Mr. Holden to state the matter. But in Abner's present angry condition, he chose to construe his silence into cause of offense.
“Why don't you speak?” he said. “What do you mean by looking me impudently in the face?”
“I have no intention of being impudent,” said Herbert. “I think you are mistaken, Mr. Holden.”
“Do you dare to tell me I am mistaken?” roared Holden, lashing himself into a rage.
“I don't mean to do or say anything that is not perfectly respectful,” said Herbert, manfully, looking steadily in his employer's face.
“Why did you tell a pack of lies about my horse this morning, and so make me lose my trade?”
“I didn't tell a pack of lies,” said Herbert.
“Didn't you tell the man who came here that he was an ill-tempered brute, and blind of one eye?”
Abner Holden glared upon the boy as if he wanted to spring upon him, and give him a thrashing on the spot.
“I told him that Spitfire was not suitable for a family horse.”