"Oh, yes, you do--you hired me, Uncle Joe."

"Well, but that's different, Bob," said his uncle, half smiling. "You
don't get paid."

"Oh, yes, I do, Uncle Joe. Father said you told him you'd pay me
whatever I was worth to you, and I'm willing to wait till you find
out, but I certainly expect to be paid money for my work."

"Your father shouldn't have told you I'd give you money. Of course,"
he added quickly, seeing Bob's face cloud, "I expect to get you some
new clothes in the fall."

"But father said I'm old enough now to buy my own clothes and that
this year he'd let me do it. You just keep account of how much work
and other things I do for you and pay me what I'm worth," Bob
answered.

"What do you mean about other things?" asked his uncle quickly.

"Well, for instance," said Bob, looking him squarely in the eyes, "you
want to borrow a thousand dollars at the First National Bank and they
haven't told you whether they'd give it to you or not."

"Who told you that?" demanded his uncle coloring.

"I don't care to say," replied Bob, "but it wasn't grandmother or
grandfather," he added quickly, to clear them of any suspicion of
having violated a confidence.