The banker had an utter contempt for him personally, and regarded his salary as high at five dollars a week, which was indeed a high rate for a young man of sixteen. Mr. Checkynshaw sat in his private office, adjoining the banking-house, when Mr. Wittleworth presented himself. He scowled savagely as the young man entered.
"You have concluded to come back--have you?" said he.
"Well, sir, you have only come to be discharged; for I will no longer have a stupid and useless blockhead about. I was willing to tolerate you for your mother's sake; but I won't submit to your impudence."
Stupid and useless blockhead! It was no use to attempt to effect a reconciliation with a person who had, or professed to have, such an opinion of him. Not even the strait to which his family was reduced could justify him in submitting to such abuse.
"Mr. Checkynshaw, I don't allow any man to insult me," Fitz began. "I have treated you like a gentleman, and I demand as much in return."
"Insult you? Impudent puppy!" gasped Mr. Checkynshaw. "What are we coming to?"
"You insulted me in a public barber's shop. Not content with that, you call me a stupid and useless blockhead--_me_, sir."
"No more of this! Take your pay, and be gone! There's five dollars, a full week's salary for three days' service," added the banker, pushing a five-dollar bill across the desk towards Fitz.
The young man was not too proud to take it.
"Go! Don't stop here another minute," said the wrathy banker, glancing at the clock, which now indicated the time he had appointed for the coming of Leo Maggimore.
"I am not ready to go just yet. I have a demand to make upon you. You have defrauded my mother out of a fortune."
"That will do! Not another word," said Mr. Checkynshaw, turning red in the face.
"My mother will take steps to obtain her rights."
"No, sir. I will not till I have said what I have to say. You shall either prove that your first daughter is alive, or you shall deliver to my mother the property."
Mr. Checkynshaw could not endure such speech as this from any man, much less from his discharged clerk. He rose from his chair, and rushed upon the slender youth with a fury worthy a more stalwart foe. Grasping him by the collar, he dragged him out of the private office, through the long entry, to the street, and then pitched him far out upon the sidewalk. As he passed through the entry, Leo Maggimore was going into the banking-office. Not knowing the way, he inquired of a person he met in the long hall.