“He won’t carry it far. Go and bring it here.”
“I dassn’t. He’ll come back and lick me.”
“Do as I tell you at once. If you don’t I will flog you.”
Septimus thought it prudent to heed his father’s appeal, especially as it was evident that Bernard had got away.
He lugged the ladder into the barn.
“Now put it up against the scaffold so that I can get down.”
Septimus did so, but he did not see that the ladder had a secure footing, so that when his father was part way down it fell, and the learned pedagogue tumbled sprawling on the barn floor, receiving some painful contusions, which did not improve his temper.
“It’s your fault, you young booby!” he exclaimed furiously, and springing for Septimus he lashed him across the legs.
“Ouch!” yelled Septimus. “Are you crazy, pa? I ain’t Bernard.”
“I’d like to flog that boy within an inch of his life!” exclaimed Ezekiel Snowdon, excited to fury by the sound of Bernard’s name.