As the speaker probably weighed two hundred and fifty pounds, it was,
indeed, rather doubtful. Paul couldn't help laughing himself at the
thought.
"You were certainly unlucky," said Mr. Preston. "Did you know the boy
you fought with?"
"Yes, sir; he once before stole my stock of candy, when I was in the
prize-package business."
"That was the day we got acquainted," remarked Mr. Preston.
"Yes, sir."
"He doesn't seem to be a very particular friend of yours."
"No; he hates me, Mike does, though I don't know why. But I hope you
won't be angry with me for losing the shirt?"
"No; it doesn't seem to be your fault, only your misfortune."
"I was afraid you might think I had made up the story, and only wanted
to get an extra shirt from you."
"No, my young friend; I have some faith in physiognomy, and you have an
honest face. I don't believe you would deceive me."
"No, I wouldn't," said Paul, promptly. "If you will trust me with
another shirt, mother will make you an extra one to make up for the one
I have lost."
"Certainly you shall have the extra shirt, but you needn't supply the
place of the one lost."
"It is only fair that I should."
"That may be, and I am glad you made the offer, but the loss is of
little importance to me. It was no fault of yours that you lost it, and
you shall not suffer for it."
"You are very kind, sir," said Paul, gratefully.
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