“I don’t know that I can accept it, but it is a great pity I cannot,” I replied, moodily; for I should have been glad to run the dummy for nothing if the major was not willing to pay me.
“It is a pity; but only think how mad the colonel would be if you should go!”
“I don’t know that he could be any madder than he is now. I am sick and disgusted with this stupid quarrel!”
“I’m sure he would discharge your father if he should let you go over to Middleport to work for the major. Those two men hate each other like evil spirits,” replied my mother.
“Of course I don’t want father to lose his situation; and if it comes to that, I suppose I must decline the offer.”
“I think you must, Wolfert.”
“I will, mother,” I added, sorely aggrieved at the alternative. “I will not do anything to make a quarrel, though I think it is about time I should be earning something.”
“Perhaps there will be a chance for you on this side; for I am sure the colonel will do something to get even with the major on that railroad. He will get up another railroad, a balloon, a flying machine, or something or other.”
“He can’t build any railroad on this side,” I replied. “The country is so rough that it would cost him all he is worth. But if he did, he wouldn’t give me anything to do upon it.”
“Perhaps he”—