He shook hands with that gentleman, and also with Isaac, both of whom responded with very poor grace.
Then they walked out into the open air. Mr. Morrison, turning to Tony as they reached the sidewalk, remarked:
"My boy, I was glad to see that you exhibited no desire for revenge."
As they walked back toward Mr. Smart's store, the senior Morrison talked earnestly with the stranger, while young Morrison said to Tony:
"Well, good-by, my friend. Father is determined to go back to Boston to-night, and wants me to go with him. I won't forget you."
Morrison gave him a warm pressure of the hand, and then Tony found himself alone. How unutterably lonesome the world seemed to the boy at that moment! and as he walked slowly home he reviewed the events of the last few months.
His winter's work had exceeded his most sanguine expectations, and yet he felt the burden of defeat upon him. When he reached home, his father questioned him closely in regard to what had transpired, all of which he explained minutely.
"The young rascal!" said Job Loring, clenching his hands and frowning. "He got off too easy. He'd orter had a lesson."
"I am satisfied," said Tony. "I think it will be a lesson to him."
Tony was treated with much more consideration than formerly, but somehow it brought him little comfort, and a week dragged slowly by.