As he spoke he tendered the broom to Herbert.
“What do you mean?” demanded the young aristocrat, his dark face growing darker still with anger.
“I mean what I say,” responded Andy, resolutely. “You must repair the mischief you have done.”
“Must? You low-lived servant!” Herbert burst forth. “Do you know who you are talking to?”
This was rather ungrammatical, but it is a common mistake, and Herbert was too angry to think of grammar.
“I am talking to a boy who has done a mean action,” retorted Andy. “Take that broom and sweep up the dust you have scattered.”
Herbert by this time was at white heat. He seized the broom which was extended toward him, but instead of using it as he was requested, he brought it down upon Andy’s shoulders.
It was not the handle, but the broom end which touched the young janitor, and he was not hurt; but it is needless to say that he considered himself insulted. Under such circumstances, though far from quarrelsome, it was his habit to act promptly, and he did so now.
First he wrested the broom from Herbert; then he seized that young gentleman around the waist, and, despite his struggles, deposited him forcibly on the floor, which was thick with dust.
“Two can play at your game, Herbert,” he said.