“Wasn’t Phil splendid?” exclaimed Janet, as she followed her father from the grand stand.
The old lawyer nodded thoughtfully.
“Yes,” said he, “the lad has a wonderful amount of reserve force, which makes him a good uphill fighter. He reminded me of his father, during that last rally. If Phil Daring has only half the pluck and backbone that Wallace Daring possessed, I predict he’ll some day make his mark in the world.”
“Yet Mr. Daring died poor,” suggested Janet.
“True, my dear; and that was because he died. Had he lived, it would have been a different story.”
CHAPTER VI
HUNTING A JOB
When Phil managed to shake off his enthusiastic friends and return to his home, he found that Phœbe had gone out. Entering the kitchen to ask Aunt Hyacinth where his sister was, he found the black mammy preparing the supper.
“Don’ know whar she am, Marse Phil, I’se shuah,” she said. “But Miss Phœbe’s sartin to be back ’fo’ long.”
Phil turned to go; then he paused, and after a moment’s thought inquired: