"What did you say ?" "I guess this is my father's party; he's paying the freight, and I guess I am his son." "I guess it's my party, and you'll do what I say or go home," said Mr.
Rhodes, coldly.

"Your father has no 'son' in this party.

I have a rodman.

Unless you are sick, you do your part of the work." Ferdy submitted for reasons of his own; but his eyes lowered, and he did not forget Mr.Rhodes.
The two youngsters soon fell out.

Ferdy began to give orders about the place, quite as if he were the master.