"Yes, sir; I am willing to work, too. But, Uncle, I must have an
education. I shall be able to earn so much more then, and, if
necessary, I shall be able to pay you for all you have spent on
me, which isn't much, you know."

"What, what? You dare to be impudent to me? You--"

"No, sir, I am not impudent. I have never been that and I never
shall be; but you are accusing me wrongfully."

"Enough. You have done with school--"

"You--you mean that I am not to go to school any more--that I
have got to go through life with the little I have learned? Is
that what you mean, Uncle?" asked the boy, with a sinking heart.

"You heard me."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Work!"

"I am working and I shall be working," Phil replied.

"You're right you will, or you'll starve. I have been thinking
this thing over a lot lately. A boy never amounts to anything if
he's mollycoddled and allowed to spend his days depending on
someone else. Throw him out and let him fight his own way.
That's what my father used to tell me, and that's what I'm going