“I should not have touched him if he had struck me. I was indignant and angry.” “Well, I don’t blame you, Mr. Wolf, for it is abominable for a boy to strike his sister,” she added, placing her hand upon her pretty face, where her brother’s rude hand had left its mark. “But Tommy rules the whole house at home; and I suppose he will have his own way now, as he always did.” As Tommy got into the boat which I had sent for him and his father, I saw that he was still in a very unamiable frame of mind. He was talking loudly and indignantly to his father, who appeared to be trying to soothe him and moderate his wrath. For my own part, I could not regret what I had done, unpleasant as the consequences promised to be. It was not in my nature to stand by and see a little bully, like Tommy, strike a young lady,--not pat her gently, but strike her a heavy blow,--not even if he were her brother. I had been tempted to give the young ruffian the pounding which he richly deserved, and to continue the operation until he was willing to promise better things. Perhaps the handsome offer which Colonel Wimpleton had made me rendered me somewhat more independent than I should otherwise have been. I was certainly in good condition to be discharged, and did not feel much like submitting to any gross indignities from the great man of Middleport, or his hopeful son. But Major Toppleton had been very kind to me, and to my father, and I could not forget the service he had rendered to us. The boat came alongside, and Tommy leaped upon the deck, followed by his father; and I could not help noticing that the senior major looked very anxious and uncomfortable. Tommy had doubtless been making strong speeches to him, and it was really melancholy to think of a man of his abilities, dignity, and influence reduced to a kind of slavery by the tyranny of his own son; and all the more melancholy because he could not realize that he was spoiling the boy by this weak indulgence. “Wolf Penniman,” said the little major, majestically, “I always keep my promises.” “Keep cool, Tommy,” interposed his father, stepping into the standing-room, where Grace and I were seated alone, for Skotchley and Tom Walton had gone forward. “You know what I said, father. I won’t have Wolf around me any longer. He has been a coward and a traitor, and he had the audacity to knock me down. Wolf Penniman, you are discharged!” continued Tommy, blustering furiously. “Don’t be too fast, Tommy,” interposed his father. “Wolf went after the boat in which you were a prisoner, captured it, and restored you to your command. Captain Briscoe told you that he did not dare to make his last move till he saw that Wolf had taken you out of the hands of the enemy.” “I don’t blame him for that; but he refused to obey my orders, and then knocked me down. I say you may discharge him, or discharge me.”