"I rather reckoned to find the others here," drawled the short-sighted youth, as, very carefully, he replaced the broken spectacles upon his nose. "We didn't agree. I guess they're on the road."
"Is this"--Mr. Harland addressed his question to one of the other Masters Bindon--"is this your brother?"
"I disown him," answered Rufus, on whom the principal's glance happened to fall. "I disown 'em all."
"He is my brother," struck in the shrill piping treble of John F. Ernest, "though he is the meanest-minded boy that ever put on shoes."
"I am not ashamed to admit," remarked John P. Arthur, still adjusting his broken spectacles, "that I appreciate the value of money. I have walked from Liverpool to save the charges."
"You have walked from Liverpool?"
"I understand it is a distance in the neighbourhood of one hundred and fifty miles. I have worn out a pair of boots. Still, I reckon I have saved better than half a dollar, net."
Mr. Harland took John P. Arthur up into his study. There the young gentleman explained.
"There was another row, so father decided to ship off three more of us. I rather think he must have forgotten to write, owing to the pressure of his business."
"Does your father keep an orphanage?"