“Ah-a! how much?” questioned the man eagerly.
“I do not know, sir. I have not counted it yet.”
“Give it to me. I’ll count it, and take care of it for you,” said the squire peremptorily.
“Excuse me, sir, but I prefer to take care of it myself,” said the youth respectfully but firmly.
“What! do you defy me?” roared his companion. “Give me that money instantly! Do you forget that you are bound to me; that I am your master?”
The boy’s eyes flashed, and he was silent for a moment. Then, meeting the glance of the infuriated man with a look that never quailed, he replied quietly, but with a reserve force that made itself felt:
“No, sir; I do not forget that I am bound to you for just one month longer. Until September 1st I shall acknowledge and serve you as my ‘master.’ At the expiration of that time my bondage will cease, and I shall be free!”
“You impudent whelp!” exclaimed Squire Talford, in a towering passion, as he sprang to his feet and descended the steps of the driveway, where the youth was standing. “Give me that money this instant, or I will thrash you within an inch of your life; do you hear?”
“Take care, sir!” Clifford returned with an emphasis that caused the man to pause involuntarily, while his dark eyes flashed with a dangerous light.