“There must have been something.”
“Well, you see Frank Fisk’s kitten was up in a tree, and I was shying stones at it. Frank made such a fuss that I took out a cord and thought I would tie his hands just to give him a lesson. Just then those two loafers came along, and had the impudence to tell me to stop, just as if they had any authority over me. Of course I told them it was none of their business, and defied them.”
“Very proper, Septimus. You are only responsible for your conduct to me.”
“Then Bernard Brooks made a savage attack upon me, and getting Nat Barclay to hold my hands, he tied them. What do you say to that, pa?”
“What do I say? That it was a high-handed and outrageous proceeding.”
“Bully for you, pa! You express my sentiments. Now what are you goin’ to do about it?”
“I shall call the Brooks boy to account. He forgets that he is under my charge.”
“He seems to think I am under his charge. Say, pa, you won’t allow your son to be insulted and trod upon, will you?”
“No, I won’t, Septimus. For some time I have been thinking that it would be necessary to flog Bernard Brooks, and now I have made up my mind to do it.”
“Good, pa! You’ll let me see you tackle him, won’t you?”