It was the
dinner hour, and a throng of men, women and children poured out of the
great portals and hastened to their homes or boarding houses to dine.
Among them was Robert Rushton. As he was walking homeward with his usual
quick, alert step, he came upon Halbert Davis, at the corner of the
street.
Halbert was dressed carefully, and, as usual, was swinging his cane in
his gloved hand. Robert would have passed him with a nod, but Halbert,
who was waiting for him, called out:
"I say, you fellow, stop a minute. I want to speak to you."
"Are you addressing me?" asked Robert, with a pride as great as his own.
"Yes."
"Then you had better mend your manners."
"What do you mean?" demanded Halbert, his sallow face slightly flushing.
"My name is Robert Rushton. Call me by either of these names when you
speak to me, and don't say 'you fellow.'"
"It seems to me," sneered Halbert, "that you are putting on airs for a
factory boy."
"I am a factory boy, I acknowledge, and am not ashamed to acknowledge
it. Is this all you have to say to me? If so, I will pass on, as I am in
haste."
"I have something else to say to you. You were impudent to me last
evening."
"Was I? Tell me how."
"Did you not insist on going home with Hester Paine, when I had offered
my escort?"
"What of that?"
"You forget your place."
"My place was at Hester Paine's side, since she had accepted my escort.
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