"None of your business!" answered Zeke, frowning.

"You'd better answer my question," said Philip, who had by this time jumped over the wall.

"Then I will. I'm havin' a little fun. What have you got to say about it?" retorted Zeke.

And once more he plunged the head of the poor dog into the filthy pool.

The next moment he found himself floundering on his back, while the dog, slipping from his grasp, was running across the meadows. "What did you do that for!" demanded Zeke, springing up, his face flaming with rage.

"I rather think you understand well enough," answered Philip contemptuously.

"What business have you to touch me? I can have you arrested, you low pauper!"

"What's that? What did you call me?" demanded Philip.

"I called you a pauper."

"By what right?"

"Squire Pope told my father he was going to bring you over to . . . Read More