“I don’t want to do anything without your father’s knowledge and consent.”
“He won’t find any fault with anything except that you are a Centreporter.”
“I am no more a Centreporter than I am a Middleporter now,” I replied. “I have had a row with the powers that be on our side.”
“A row! Good!” exclaimed Tommy, his face brightening up at this intelligence. “What was it?”
I explained what it was, telling the whole history of the blowing up of the canal-boat, with the collateral incidents relating to the affair.
“That’s just like Wimpleton,” said Tommy. “We don’t behave in that way on our side of the lake.”
I hoped they did not; but it was a fact patent to the people, that Mr. Tommy, though by no means as bad a boy as Waddie, was a spoiled child. He was overbearing, domineering, and inclined to get into bad scrapes. Though he was willing to be my friend, and to treat me with the greatest consideration at the present time, it was only because he had an axe to grind; and I had not much confidence in the professions he made to me.
“I wish you would come and live on our side,” added Tommy. “We want just such a fellow as you are over here.”
“Perhaps I may have to live over here,” I replied. “I suppose Waddie will not let me rest in peace after what has happened; and I never will go down on my knees to him or any other person.”
“Don’t you do it, Wolf,” said Tommy, warmly. “If you want a dozen or twenty of our fellows to go over and whip out the crowd that set upon you, we will do it—won’t we, fellows?”