“Where do you live now?” inquired Billy, anxiously.
Mr. Green, disdaining concealment, slapped Mr. Legge on the back, and, laughing uproariously, regarded Master Jones with much kindness.
“You mustn’t follow me,” said Sam, severely; “d’ye hear?”
“All right, father,” said the boy, dutifully.
“And don’t call me father,” vociferated Mr. Brown.
“Why not?” inquired the youth, artlessly.
Mr. Legge stopped suddenly, and, putting his hand on Mr. Green’s shoulder, gaspingly expressed his inability to go any farther. Mr. Green, patting his back, said he knew how he felt, because he felt the same, and, turning to Sam, told him he’d be the death of him if he wasn’t more careful.
“If you don’t run away,” said Mr. Brown, harshly, as he turned to the boy, “I shall give you a hiding.”
“Where am I to run to?” whimpered Master Jones, dodging off and on.
“Run ’ome,” said Sam.