gold-headed cane. He is headed this way, and it's likely he is going
to honor you with a call. He's got somebody with him, too. Who is
it!"

Philip shaded his eyes with his hand, for the Sun was near its
setting, and shining with dazzling brightness from the quarter
toward which he was looking.

"It's Nick Holden!" he said.

"So it is! What can he want?"

"I understand very well. He wants my violin. He couldn't get it at
the sale, so he has come here to see if he can't make me give it to
him."

"And will you?"

"You ought to know me better than to ask, Frank," said Philip
firmly. "Nick might as well have stayed away, for he won't
accomplish anything."

Nick, however, held a different opinion. After Philip left the
cottage, he had gone to Squire Pope, and cunningly asked:

"Are you going to let Philip keep his fiddle in spite of you,
squire?"

"What do you mean, Nicholas?" demanded the squire, in a stately way.