[CHAPTER XX.
JAMES BARCLAY COMES TO GRIEF.]
“Get out yourself!” retorted Mrs. Hogan, as with undaunted mien she faced the ruffian. “What are you doin’ to old Jerry?”
“Mind your business, woman, and leave the room, if you don’t want to get hurt!”
James Barclay still retained his grip upon the old man as he spoke.
He was as bold as his father was timid, and did not mean to be frightened away by a woman.
“I’m no more a woman than yourself,” said Mrs. Hogan, angrily, who preferred to be addressed as a lady.
“Well, you’re dressed like one, any way,” rejoined Barclay, with a smile of amusement. “My father and I have a little business together, and you’re not wanted.”
“Is he your son, Jerry?” asked Mrs. Hogan, not certain whether the statement was true.
“Yes,” answered Jerry, feebly, “but he wants to rob me. Take him away, Mrs. Hogan.”