"You are evading the main point, Rushton," said the superintendent. "I have required you to apologize to my son, and I ask you for the last time whether you propose to comply with my wishes."
"No, sir," said Robert, boldly.
"Do you know to whom you are speaking, boy?"
"Yes, sir."
"I am not only the father of the boy you have assaulted, but I am also the superintendent of this factory, and your employer.".
"I am aware of that, sir."
"I can discharge you from the factory."
"I know you can," said Robert.
"Of course, I should be sorry to resort to such an extreme measure, but, if you defy my authority, I may be compelled to do so."
So the crisis had come. Robert saw that he must choose between losing his place and a humiliating apology. Between the two he did not for a moment hesitate.
"Mr. Davis," he said, boldly and firmly, "it will be a serious thing for me if I lose my place here, for my mother and I are poor, and my wages make the greatest part of our income. But I cannot make this apology you require. I will sooner lose my place."
The bold and manly bearing of our hero, and his resolute tone, impressed the superintendent with an involuntary admiration. He felt that Robert was a boy to be proud of, but none the less he meant to carry out his purpose.
"Is this your final decision?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Then you are discharged from the factory. You will report your discharge to Mr. Baker, and he will pay you what you have earned this week."
"Very well, sir."
Robert left the office, with a bold bearing, but a heart full of trouble. If only himself had been involved in the calamity, he could have borne it better, but he knew that his loss of place meant privation and want for his mother, unless he could find something to do that would bring in an equal income, and this he did not expect.
"Mr. Baker," he said, addressing the foreman of his room, on his return from the superintendent's office, "I am discharged."
"Discharged?" repeated the foreman, in surprise. "There must be some mistake about this. You are one of our best hands—for your age, I mean."
"There is no dissatisfaction with my work that I know of, but I got into a quarrel with Halbert Davis yesterday, and his father wants me to apologize to him."
"Which you won't do?"
"I would if I felt that I were in fault. I am not too proud for that. But the fact is, Halbert ought to apologize to me."
"Halbert is a mean boy. I don't blame you in the least."
"So I am to report my discharge to you, and ask you for my wages."
This account was soon settled, and Robert left the factory his own master. But it is poor consolation to be one's own master under such circumstances. He dreaded to break the news to his mother, for he knew that it would distress her. He was slowly walking along, when he once more encountered Halbert Davis. Halbert was out for the express purpose of meeting and exulting over him, for he rightly concluded that Robert would decline to apologize to him. Robert saw his enemy, and guessed his object, but resolved to say nothing to him, unless actually obliged to do so.
"Where are you going?" demanded Halbert.
"Home."
"I thought you worked in the factory?"
"Did you?" asked Robert, looking full in his face, and reading the exultation he did not attempt to conceal.
"Perhaps you have got turned out?" suggested Halbert, with a malicious smile.
"You would be glad of that, I suppose," said our hero.
"I don't think I should cry much," said Halbert. "It's true then, is it?"
"Yes; it's true."
"You won't put on so many airs when you go round begging for cold victuals. It'll be some time before you walk with Hester Paine again."
"I shall probably walk with her sooner than you will."
"She won't notice a beggar."
"There is not much chance of my becoming a beggar, Halbert Davis; but I would rather be one than be as mean as you. I will drop you a slight hint, which you had better bear in mind. It won't be any safer to insult me now than it was yesterday. I can't lose my place a second time."
Halbert instinctively moved aside, while our hero passed on, without taking farther notice of him.
"I hate him!" he muttered to himself. "I hope he won't find anything to do. If he wasn't so strong, I'd give him a thrashing."
CHAPTER VI.
HALBERT'S DISCOMFITURE
Great was the dismay of Mrs. Rushton when she heard from Robert that he was discharged from the factory. She was a timid woman, and rather apt to take desponding views of the future.
"Oh, Robert, what is going to become of us?" she exclaimed, nervously. "We have only ten dollars in the house, and you know how little I can earn by braiding straw. I really think you were too hasty and impetuous."
"Don't be alarmed, my dear mother," said Robert, soothingly. "I am sorry I have lost my place, but there are other things I can do besides working in the factory. We are not going to starve yet."
"But, suppose you can't find any work?" said his mother.
"Then I'll help you braid straw," said Robert, laughing. "Don't you think I might learn after a while?"
"I don't know but you might," said Mrs. Rushton, dubiously; "but the pay is very poor."
"That's so, mother. I shan't, take to braiding straw except as a last resort."
"Wouldn't Mr. Davis take you back into the factory if I went to him and told him how much we needed the money?"
"Don't think of such a thing, mother," said Robert, hastily, his brown cheek flushing. "I am too proud to beg to be taken back."
"But it wouldn't be you."
"I would sooner ask myself than have you do it, mother. No; the superintendent sent me away for no good reason, and he must come and ask me to return before I'll do it."
"I am afraid you are proud, Robert."
"So I am, mother; but it is an honest pride. Have faith in me for a week, mother, and see if I don't earn something in that time. I don't expect to make as much as I earned at the factory; but I'll earn something, you may depend upon that. Now, how would you like to have some fish for supper?"
"I think I should like it. It is a good while since we had any."
"Then, I'll tell you what—I'll borrow Will Paine's boat, if he'll let me have it, and see if I can't catch something."
"When will you be home, Robert?"
"It will depend on my success in fishing. It'll be half-past nine, very likely, before I get fairly started, so I think I'd better take my dinner with me. I'll be home some time in the afternoon."
"I hope you'll be careful, Robert. You might get upset."
"I'll take care of that, mother. Besides, I can swim like a duck."
Robert went out into the garden, and dug some worms for bait. Meanwhile, his mother made a couple of sandwiches, and wrapped them in a paper for his lunch. Provided thus, he walked quickly to the house of Squire Paine, and rang the bell.
"Is Will home?" he asked.
"Here I am, old fellow!" was heard from the head of the stairs; and William Paine, a boy of our hero's size and age, appeared. "Come right up."
"How did you happen to be at leisure?" he asked. "I supposed you were at the factory."
"I'm turned off."
"Turned