Part 45 (1/2)
A boy of seventeen, Tom Calder by name, was employed by Colonel Ross to look after his two horses and attend to any errands or light duties that might be required about the house.
Philip, as he entered the stable, saw Tom sitting on a kitchen chair, which had been transferred to the stable, engaged in reading a weekly paper.
”What are you doing there, Tom?” he demanded, in an imperious tone.
If Philip had asked in a civil tone, Tom would have answered him with civility, but the boy's tone was offensive, and Tom was too spirited to bear it.
”What's that to you, Phil?” he retorted.
”You'll find out what it is!” answered Philip, angrily.
”That's just what I'm wanting to do.”
”And don't you presume to call me Phil, either.”
”Why--isn't it your name?”
”Yes; but it isn't for you to call me by it.”
”What am I to call you, now?”
”You can call me Master Philip, or Mr. Philip.”
”Ho! ho! It's a joke you're playing on me!”
”No, it isn't. It is your duty to treat me with respect. But you haven't answered my question.”
”What is it?”
”What are you doing there?”
”Reading a paper. Can't you see for yourself?”
”That isn't what my father pays you for. Go right to work.”
”Shure, you want me to work day and night! That's what Tom Calder won't do for no man last of all for a boy like you!”
”If you ain't careful, my father will send you away.”
”If he does, I'll get another place soon,” said Tom, indifferently.
”You're an impudent loafer!”
”The same to yourself,” said Tom, indifferently.
After a little further altercation, Philip walked off in dudgeon. It was clear that he couldn't bully Tom.
CHAPTER x.x.xIII
STEALING THE BONDS