"Shame on you!" he burst forth. "You my guardian! What did you ever
guard for me, except too little clothes and victuals? I'm never out of
the house after dark. I never refuse to do your hardest work. I even
scrub for you. Well, I won't any longer. I have made up my mind to
go away."

"You hear that? you hear that?" cried Miss Lavinia. "He's going to run
away from home!"

"Home!" retorted Andy scornfully. "A fine home this has been for
me--snapped at, found fault with, treated like a charity pauper. Do your
duty, Mr. Wagner. But I warn you that no law can send me to the reform
school. This woman is not my legal guardian. She is not rightfully even
a relative. I have friends in Fairview, I tell you, and they won't see
me wronged. I wonder what my poor dead father would say to you for
all this?"

Miss Lavinia gave a shriek. She fell into a chair and kicked her heels
on the floor and went into hysterics.

The constable looked in a friendly way at Andy. He liked the lad's pluck
and independence. He recalled, too, how Andy had once led him to a quiet
haystack, where he had slept himself sober instead of risking his
position and making a public show of himself on the streets of Fairview.

"See here, Miss Lavinia," he spoke, "I don't fancy treating Andy like a
criminal. If I take him with me now I'll have to lock him up with two
chicken thieves and a tramp. They're no good company for a
homebred boy."