"Turn them out!" thundered the old man.

"Uncle, I have always obeyed you. Obedience was one of the
things that my mother taught me, but I'm sure that were she here
she would tell me I was right in refusing to humiliate myself as
you would have me do. There is nothing in my pockets that does
not belong to me. I am not a thief."

"Then I'll turn them out myself!" snarled Abner Adams, starting
forward.

Phil stepped back a pace, satchel in hand.

"Uncle, I am a man now," said the boy, straightening to his full
height. "Please don't force me to do something that I should be
sorry for all the rest of my life. Will you shake hands with
me?"

"No!" thundered Abner Adams. "Get out of my sight before I lay
the stick over your head!"

Phil stretched out an appealing hand, then hastily withdrew it.

"Good-bye, Uncle Abner," he breathed.

Without giving his uncle a chance to reply, the lad turned,
opened the door and ran down the steps.