“Oh, he laughed, did he?” said Mr. Snowdon, much incensed.
“Yes, he doesn’t care for you,” said Septimus, craftily fanning his father’s wrath.
“I’ll learn him,” said Mr. Snowdon, shaking his head vigorously. “He’ll see that I am not to be trifled with. But what did he tie your hands for?”
“Just cut the cord and I’ll tell you. It hurts like all possessed.”
Mr. Snowdon drew a jack-knife from his pocket and severed the cord. Septimus breathed a sigh of relief.
“See how very red my wrists are?” he said. “Pa, do me a favor.”
“Well, what is it?”
“Keep this cord, and let me tie Bernard’s hands with it.”
“A good idea, Septimus. Now tell me what he tied your hands for.”
“For just nothing at all.”