“Was it? was it?” snarled Mr Dempster, and the struggle recommenced, until I, with the perspiration standing on my forehead, caught tightly hold of the desk.
Esau was pretty strong, but he was almost helpless in the bands of the angry man who held him, and the struggle ended, after the high stool and the chair had both been knocked over with a crash, by Mr Dempster’s getting Esau down and holding him there with one knee upon his chest.
“Hah!” he ejaculated, panting. “Here you, Gordon, get down and pick up my cane,” and he gave his head a jerk in the direction of where the stick lay, just as it had been knocked close to the door.
Months of rigid obedience to the tyrant had their effect, and I got down from my stool trembling with excitement.
“Oh, don’t, don’t, Gordon!” cried Esau; “don’t give it him.”
But my employer’s eyes were fixed upon me with such a look that I was fascinated, and as if moved against my own will, I crossed the office and picked up the thick cane.
“Give it here, quick!”
For I stood there hesitating, but the imperative voice mastered me, and I moved towards the speaker.
“Don’t—don’t give it him,” cried Esau.
“Quick—this instant!” roared Mr Dempster, and I handed the cane.