“Give it to me, then,” added the colonel.
I gave it to him, and he put it in his pocket, in spite of the protest of Waddie.
“Now, Wolf, I want you to tell me the truth,” continued Colonel Wimpleton.
“I will do so, sir.”
“You persuaded my boy to blow up that canal boat?”
“No, sir. I did not.”
“I didn’t say he persuaded me to do it, father,” interrupted the son.
“You wouldn’t have done such a thing as that unless somebody put you up to it, Waddie,” protested the fond father, who had been obliged to make the same statement fifty times before, and remained obstinately incredulous in regard to his son’s capacity to do mischief up to the present time.
“Yes, I would, father; and I am only sorry the skipper of the canal boat was not on board when she went up. Didn’t I say he insulted me? Didn’t I tell you he shook me, kicked me, cuffed me, and then chucked me on the wharf, as though I had been a dead cat? When a man insults me, he has to pay for it,” said Waddie, shaking his head to emphasize his strong declarations.
“Yes; and I shall have to pay for it too,” muttered the colonel, who felt very much as the man did who had to pay his wife’s fine after he had prosecuted her for an assault upon himself.