There were tears in his eyes, and on his face.
"I believe this boy was telling the truth," said Mr. Bobbsey. "Even if
he did fish a little during the time you call yours, that would be no
excuse for using a horsewhip on him."
"I tell you he's bound out to me, and I can. do as I please with him!"
cried Mr. Hardee.
"No, you can't," said Mr. Bobbsey. "You have no right to be cruel,
even if he is a poor boy, and is bound out to you. Haven't you any
folks, Will?" he asked.
"No--no, sir," was the half-sobbed answer. "No near folks. I come from
th' poorhouse, just as he says. But I've got an uncle somewhere out
west. He's a miner. If he knew where I was, he'd look after me."
"Where is your uncle?" asked Mr. Bobbsey.
"I--I got his address, but I can't write very good, or I'd send him a
letter."
"Let me have his address," went on Mr. Bobbsey. "And I'll see what I
can do."
"Look here!" cried the farmer. "I won't have you interferin' in my
business! You ain't got a right to!"
"Every one has a right to stop a poor boy from being unjustly beaten,"
said the twins' father. "Will, you get me that address. I'll be here a
day or so, in my houseboat, and you can bring it down to me. Do you
think you can find it, and let me know where your uncle lives?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then do it.
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