Part 54 (1/2)

”Well, that is shabby,” I cried.

”What is, boy?” said Uncle Jack.

”To send me off like this. Why, you'll all break down without me.”

”No, no; that does not follow,” said Uncle Bob.

”Ah, won't it! You'll see,” I said.

”Look here, Cob, be reasonable,” exclaimed Uncle Jack, walking up and down the room in a very excited way. ”You see, ever since you were born we've made a sort of playmate of you, and since you grew older, and have been down here with us, you know we have not treated you as if you were a boy.”

”Well, no, uncle, I suppose you have not.”

”We have talked with you, consulted with you, and generally behaved towards you as if you were a young man.”

”And now all at once you turn round and punish me by treating me as if I were a little boy.”

”No, no, my lad; be reasonable. We have been consulting together.”

”Without me.”

”Yes, without you; because we felt that we were not doing you justice-- that we were not behaving as good brothers to your mother, in letting you go on sharing these risks.”

”But there may be no more, uncle.”

”But there will be a great many more, my boy,” said Uncle Jack solemnly; ”and what would our feelings be if some serious accident were to happen to you?”

”Just the same, Uncle Jack,” I cried, ”as mine would be, and my father's and mother's, if some accident were to happen to you.”

Uncle Jack wrinkled up his broad forehead, stared hard at me, and then, in a half-angry, half amused way, he went to the table, took up an imaginary piece of soap and began to rub it in his palms.

”I wash my hands of this fellow, boys,” he said. ”d.i.c.k, you are the oldest; take him in hand, dress him down, give him sixpence to buy hardbake and lollipops, and send him about his business.”

”Make it half-a-crown, uncle,” I cried, with my cheeks burning with anger; ”and then you might buy me a toy-horse too--one with red wafers all over it, and a rabbit-skin tail.”

”My dear Cob,” said Uncle Jack, ”why will you be so wilfully blind to what is good for you?”

My cheeks grew hotter, and if I had been alone I should have burst into a pa.s.sion of tears, but I could not do such a thing then, when I wanted to prove to these three that I was fit to be trusted and too old to be sent home.

”We do not come to this conclusion without having carefully thought it out, boy,” cried Uncle Bob.

”Very well, then!” I cried, almost beside myself with pa.s.sion.

”Confess now,” said Uncle Bob; ”haven't you often felt very much alarmed at having to keep watch of a night in that lonely factory?”

”Of course I have.”

”And wished yourself at home?” said Uncle d.i.c.k.

”Scores of times, uncle.”