Sydney Belton, as he felt the pressure of his father’s hand, could not speak for a few minutes, and when he did find utterance, he seemed to have caught a fresh cold, for his voice sounded husky.
“I want as a favour, father—” he began, in a faltering voice.
“Here, it’s all right, Syd, my boy,” said his uncle; “don’t bother your father for money. Now then, how much do you want?”
“I don’t want money, uncle.”
“Eh? Don’t want money, sir? Wait a bit then till you get among your messmates, and you’ll want plenty.”
“I want to beg Panama off from being punished.”
“Ah, to be sure. I’d forgotten him,” cried Captain Belton; and he went to the fireplace and rang the bell.
The butler answered, looking very serious and apologetic now as he glanced at Sir Thomas. But the old gentleman only shook his fist at him good-humouredly as his brother spoke.
“Send John down to the cottage, to tell Strake to come up directly with his son.”
“Look here,” said Sir Thomas, chuckling, “don’t you two look like that. Pull serious faces, and let’s scare the young dog. Do him good.”