h it,"
protested Fitz. "There's nothing too mean for Checkynshaw to say."

"Don't be saucy, Fitz. Try to be civil," pleaded his mother.

"Be civil! What, when he comes here to accuse me of robbing his safe? I
can't stand that, and I won't, if I know myself," replied Fitz, shaking
his head vehemently at the banker.

"I haven't accused you of anything, Fitz," added Mr. Checkynshaw, very
mildly for him. "I came to inquire about it."

"Do you think if I did it that I would tell you of it?"

"I wish to ask you some questions."

"Well, you needn't!"

"Very well, young man," said the banker, rising from his chair, "if you
don't choose to answer me, you can answer somebody else. I'll have you
arrested."

"Arrested! I'd like to see you do it! What for? I know something about
law!" He had been an errand boy in a lawyer's office!

"Don't be so rude, Fitz," begged his mother.

"Arrest me!" repeated the violent youth, whose dignity had been touched
by the threat. "Do it! Why didn't you do it before you came here? You
can't scare me! I wasn't brought up in the city to be frightened by a
brick house. Why don't you go for a constable, and take me up now? I'd
like to have you do it."

"I will do it if you don't behave yourself," said the banker, beginning
to be a little ruffled by the violent and unreasonable conduct of Mr.
Wittleworth.

"I wish you would! I really wish you would! I should like to know what
my friend Choate would say about it."

"How silly you talk!" exclaimed his mother, quite as much disgusted as
her stately visitor.

"You may let him badger you, if you like, mother; but he shall not come
any odds on me--not if I know it, and I think I do!"

"It is useless for me to attempt to say anything to such a young
porcupine," added Mr. Checkynshaw, taking his hat from the table.

Mrs. Wittleworth burst into tears. She had hoped to effect a
reconciliation between her son and his employer, upon which her very
immunity from blank starvation seemed to depend. The case was a
desperate one, and the bad behavior of Fitz seemed to destroy her last
hope.

"I will give up now, Fitz, and go to the almshouse," sobbed she.

Fitz was inclined to give up also when this stunning acknowledgment was
made in the presence of his great enemy, the arch dragon of
respectability.

"I am willing to work, but not to be trodden upon," added he, sullenly;
but his spirit for the moment seemed to be subdued.

"Mr. Checkynshaw wis