“I know what he said; and it’s just like the Major. Just because his wounds come out bad sometimes, he thinks he has a right to say what he likes. I believe he said my father was a fool.”
“That he didn’t,” cried Joe, sharply; “he said he’d be a fool, if he put any money in a mine.”
“There, I knew it, and it’s regularly insulting,” cried Gwyn, with his face flushing and eyes sparkling. “I shall just go and tell Major Jollivet that my father—”
“Oh, I say, what a chap you are!” cried Joe, wrinkling up his rather plump face. “You’re never happy without you’re making a row about something. Why don’t you punch my head?”
“I would for two pins.”
“There, that’s more like you. What have I done? I didn’t say it.”
“No, but your father did, and it’s all the same.”
“Oh! is it? I don’t see that. I couldn’t help it.”
“Yes, you could. It all came of your chattering. See if I go fishing with you again!”
“Go it!”