“I don’t, boys—it isn’t true; and my father’s a gentleman, not an old snip.”
“Do you want me to kick you again?” said Burr major savagely.
“Yes, if you dare,” cried Mercer defiantly.
“Just you wait a bit, my lad, till I’m done. Yes, boys, that’s it Dicksee, he gave you some of that, and it made you so ill the other day.”
“Then we’ll show it to the Doctor,” cried Dicksee.
“I didn’t!” cried Mercer. “That’s to preserve with.”
“Yes, that’s it,” cried Burr major—“to preserve with. Do you hear, boys? He keeps that to put in jam.”
There was a shout at this, and I saw Mercer writhe in his impotence.
“Tell you what, we’ll rout out the whole lot, and take them down in the stable-yard and burn them.”
“You let them alone,” cried Mercer frantically, as Burr major scraped out a double handful of the hoarded treasures and threw them on the floor.