"What I see and what I don't see is my own affair."
"Oh, no, it isn't. It's a class affair. There's such a thing as esprit de corps. We can't afford to have rotters, now especially."
Tad grew still feebler. "I'm not the only rotter in the bunch. Why do you pick on me?"
"I've told you already. Because I choose to. You might as well give in to me first as last, because you'll not get rid of me any more than you will of your own conscience."
Tad sprang to his feet, his eyes flashing, in a new outburst. "I'll be damned if I'll give in to you."
"And I'll be damned if you don't. If I can't bring you round by persuasion I'll do it as I did it once before. I'll wale the guts out of you. I'm not going to have you a disgrace."
"Ah!" Tad started back. "Now I've got you. A disgrace! You talk as if you were a member of the family. That's what you're after. That's what you've been scheming for ever since—"
"Look here," Tom interrupted, forcefully. "Let's understand each other about this business once and for all." Looking from under his eyelids he measured Tad up and down. "I wouldn't be a member of the family that has produced you for anything the world could give me."
Tad bounded, changing his note foolishly. "Oh, you wouldn't wouldn't you! How do you know that you won't damn well have to be?"