"Listen," continued Tom. He leaned over toward Philippe. "Do you see that farm over there?"
He pointed to a little peaceful-looking farm in the distance. Philippe nodded. He wondered what Tom was going to say. Tom had never talked like this before.
"Tonight we shall go to that farm," Tom went on, "and we shall take a wheelbarrow along, and we shall help ourselves to all the fine vegetables there. Tomorrow we shall set up in the market place. You have sold vegetables in market places before, eh, my Philippe?"
But the boy could not answer. He was horrified.
It all came to him then. This was the vegetable thief—the man who had stolen his own father's vegetables! Tom! Oh, what a foolish boy he had been! Why hadn't he listened to his parents? He was traveling with a thief!
Tom said in an irritable voice, "Come on, boy! Don't stare at me like that! Wake up, and we shall teach you!"
But Philippe had jumped up quickly and stood before Tom. His fists were clenched and his cheeks burned.
"No, no! I won't steal," he cried. "It is wicked to steal! I will not help you!"
Tom only smiled calmly.
