Richard Green rose with a sharp movement. "Jack! I want a word with you.
Come outside!"
He passed Robin and went to the new-comer, gripping him quickly by the shoulder and turning him back by the way he had come.
Jack submitted to the imperative touch. He was taller and broader than his elder brother, but he lacked that subtle something—the distinction of bearing—which in Richard was very apparent.
"Well, Dick! What do you want?" he said. "I'm pretty mad, I can tell you.
I hope you're going to thrash him well. Because if you don't, I shall."
Briefly and decidedly Dick made answer. "No, you won't. You'll not touch him. I shall do—whatever is necessary."
"Shall you?" said Jack. "Then why don't you shut him up in a wild-beast house? It's the only place he's fit for."
"Shut up, please!" Richard's tone was an odd mixture of tolerance and exasperation. "I'll manage this affair my own way. But I've got to know the truth of it first. What made him throw that stone? Have you been baiting him again?"
"I?" Jack squared his shoulders; a sneer crossed his good-looking face.
"Oh, say I did it!" he drawled.
"Don't be an ass, Jack! Can't you see I want your help?" Richard spoke with insistence; his hand gripped his brother's arm.
Jack's sneer turned to a self-satisfied smile. "I'll help you hammer him if you like. There's nothing would please me better. Oh, all right, man! Don't be impatient! That's my funny bone when you've done with it. I don't mind telling you all about it if you want to know. He chucked that stone at me out of sheer damned vindictiveness. He meant to break my head, but he broke the window instead, and frightened Madam Fielding into fits. In her own park too! It's a bit thick, you know, that. I don't wonder that she came straight along to you to demand his blood. You'll have the old man down next; also the beautiful Miss Moore. It's getting beyond a joke, you know, Dick. You'll have to shut the beast up. You can't let him run amuck like this."