“What a joke if Mr. Whitten had birched you, my boy.”
“I’d stood for it,” grinned Stanley. Then observing the gathering gloom on Bub’s face he quickly asked, “But, Mr. Thomas, why this castdown look? Aren’t you glad to find I’m what I am?”
“I don’t see why I should be,” slowly decided Bub. “I’m selfish, I guess. I found a friend, a rattling good fellow. Now I lose him. I guess I would have preferred to have you remain Reddy—and making mistakes.”
“None of that,” fiercely warned Stanley, shaking Bub by the shoulders. “I’m just the same as I was up on Flat-Top. I shall always be Reddy to you. Discovering my uncle makes no difference in my feelings for you and Abner.”
“Red—Stanley, do you mean that?” cried the delighted youth
“I vum! I believe he does,” muttered Abner.
“See here, you two,” angrily declared Stanley. “What do you think I am? Didn’t you two take me up and befriend me when I didn’t have as many friends or as much to eat as the cook’s dog? Are you mean enough to think
