"
"You'll do it now. Get yourself out of my house, bag and
baggage!"
"Uncle, Uncle!" protested the lad in amazement. "Would you turn
me out?"
"Would I? I have, only you are too stupid to know it. You'll
thank me for it when you get old enough to have some sense."
Phil's heart sank within him, and it required all his
self-control to keep the bitter tears from his eyes.
"When do you wish me to go?" he asked without a quaver in his
voice.
"Now."
"Very well, I'll go. But what do you think my mother would say,
could she know this?"
"That will do, young man. Do your chores, and then--"
"I am not working for you now, Uncle, you know, so I shall have
to refuse to do the chores. There is fifty cents due me from Mr.
Churchill for fixing his chicken coop. You may get that, I don't
want it."
Phil turned away once more, and with head erect entered the
house, going straight to his room, leaving Abner Adams fuming and
stamping about in the front yard. The old man's rage knew no
bounds. He was so beside himself with anger over the fancied
impudence of his nephew that, had the boy been present, he might
have so far forgotten himself as to have used his cane on Phil.
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