“Stand back!” cried Tom huskily.
“No—out you go,” cried Fred, who gathered courage on finding his brother did not resent his attack.
“Stand back, I say!”
“Out you go,” repeated Fred—“you fool!”
Tom drew back for a moment; and, as Jessie looked up, roused by a movement on her father’s, part and a cry from her mother, she saw Tom’s fist dart out from his shoulder, and then there was a dull sound, and Fred staggered back, tripped over a mat by the open window, and fell with a crash amongst the plants in the conservatory, bringing down an avalanche in his fall.
As Tom turned, it was to see that a complete change had come over Dick, who had leaped at his brother’s throat, catching him by shirt front and white cravat, bringing him upon his knees, and shaking him with all his might.
“You cursed scoundrel—you sanctified, hypocritical cheat!” shouted Dick, as he shook Max till he began to turn purple, and something white fell on the floor between his knees. “Mad, am I? Send me to an asylum, would you? Let me off if I give you half my income?”
“Help, help!” moaned Max, whose dark, smooth hair glided from his head on to the floor as Dick shook away.
“Didn’t I—say—you were—a ’umbug?” cried Dick, panting, and throwing all his energies into a kick. “Yes, and a fool. This is my clever brother, who let himself be taken in by the weakest, transparentest do that ever a man tried to invent. Softening of the brain, have I! That was a pretty hard kick for a man with that complaint!” he roared, as he stood over his brother, threatening with his foot as if about to punish him again. “There! Get up, and out of my house, and never darken the doors again. You ain’t a brother to me, and never were. Being born of the same mother only half makes brothers. I’ll never own you as mine. Eh? Oh, I’ve done, Tom, now.”
Dick made no resistance as Tom dragged him away from his brother; and Max got up, looking very strange about the head, as he hastily picked up and dragged on his wig.