"Home!" retorted Andy scornfully. "A fine home this has been for me—snapped at, found fault with, treated like a charity pauper. Do your duty, Mr. Wagner. But I warn you that no law can send me to the reform school. This woman is not my legal guardian. She is not rightfully even a relative. I have friends in Fairview, I tell you, and they won't see me wronged. I wonder what my poor dead father would say to you for all this?"
Miss Lavinia gave a shriek. She fell into a chair and kicked her heels on the floor and went into hysterics.
The constable looked in a friendly way at Andy. He liked the lad's pluck and independence. He recalled, too, how Andy had once led him to a quiet haystack, where he had slept himself sober instead of risking his position and making a public show of himself on the streets of Fairview.
"See here, Miss Lavinia," he spoke, "I don't fancy treating Andy like a criminal. If I take him with me now I'll have to lock him up with two chicken thieves and a tramp. They're no good company for a homebred boy."
"He deserves a lesson," declared Miss Lavinia. "He shall have it, too!"
"Let him stay here till morning, then I'll come after him."
"He won't be here. Didn't you hear him say he was going to run away from home?"
"Haven't you got some safe place I can lock him up in?" suggested Wagner. "I've got to make you safe and sound, you know," observed the officer quite apologetically to Andy.
"Yes, there is," reported Miss Lavinia after brief thought. "You wait a minute."
She went away and returned with a bunch of keys. The constable beckoned to Andy to follow her, and he closed in behind.