“I warrant. Crippling yourself, too. Been fighting with the ‘ragamuffin reg’lars,’ hey? An’ sarve ye right--sarve ye right, I say!” The old man scowled still more fiercely. “And now that you’ve got licked, ye come back home like a cur with its tail ’twixt its legs, arskin’ ter be taken in--hey? I know your breed.” “If you don’t want me here I can go away again,” Hadley said, quietly. “What would I want ye for? You’re a lazy, good-for-nothing--that’s what ye air! There’s naught for ye to do about the farm this time o’ year--an’ crippled, too. Ye’d never come back to me if that ball hadn’t hit ye. Ye’d stayed on with that Mr. Washington ye’re so fond of talking about. Ha! I’m done with ye! Ye’ve been naught but an expense and a trouble since your mother brought ye here--and she was an expense, too. I’m a poor man; I can’t have folks hangin’ ter the tail o’ my coat. Your mother--” “Suppose we let that drop, sir,” interrupted Hadley, firmly, and his eyes flashed. “Everybody in this neighborhood knows what my mother was. They know that she worked herself into her grave in this house. And if she hadn’t begged me to stay here as long as I could be of any use to you, I’d never stood your ill treatment as long as I did. And now,” cried the youth, growing angrier as he thought of the slurring tone his uncle had used in speaking of the dead woman, “it lies with you whether you break with your last relative on earth or not. I will stand abuse myself, and hard work; but you shan’t speak one word against mother!” “Hoity, toity!” exclaimed the old man. “The young cock is crowing, heh? Who are you that tells me what I should do, or shouldn’t do?” Hadley was silent. He was sorry now that he had spoken so warmly. “Seems to me, Master Hadley, for a beggar, ye talk pretty uppishly--that’s it, uppishly! And you are a beggar--ye’ve got nothing and ye never will have anything. I’ll find some other disposal to make of my farm here--” “I’m not looking for dead men’s shoes!” flashed out the boy again. “You’ve had my time, and you’ve a right to it for three years longer. If you want to hire me out as soon as my wound is well, you can do so. I haven’t refused to work for you.” “Yah!” snarled the old man. “Who wants to hire a boy at this time of the year? The country’s ruined as it is--jest ruined. There’s no business. I tell you that you’re an expense, and I’d ruther have your room than your company.” Hadley turned swiftly. He had clung to Black Molly’s bridle. Now he climbed upon the horse block and, in spite of his wound, fairly flung himself into the saddle. “You’ve told me to go, Uncle Ephraim!” he exclaimed, with flaming cheeks. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” and, pounding his heels into the mare’s sides, he set off at a gallop along the path, and in a moment was out of sight of the angry farmer.