Caleb’s face grew red with rage.
“What d’ye mean, ye old scamp?”
“He hez robbed me,” Arad shrieked.
“See here,” Caleb said coolly, “this looks to me like petty persecution, don’t it to you, ’Doniram? I reckon the courts would see it that way, too.”
“The courts’ll send that reskil ter the State reform school—that’s what they’ll do,” Arad declared.
“So it’s locking him up you’re after, eh?” returned Caleb. “Now, Brandon, don’t you worry about this. We kin have it fixed up in no time.”
“But the boy’s got to be taken to Rhode Island,” exclaimed Adoniram. “It will be a matter of weeks.”
“Weeks?” roared Caleb. “Why, the steamer sails Tuesday. He can’t go.”
“I guess, mister, that you won’t have much to do with it,” remarked the man with the warrant officiously. “This warrant is returnable to the Rhode Island courts, and to Rhode Island he must go. If the boy had wanted to go on a voyage he shouldn’t have stolen the money.”
Caleb actually roared at this and shook his huge fist in the fellow’s face. Adoniram hastened to keep the peace.