"No right, have I?" inquired Kirby in a sarcastic tone.
"That is what I said."
"Then, boy, you'd better not have said it. You won't fare any better for it, I can tell you that. Come, get up, and at once!"
He leaned over, and grasping Dean by the collar pulled him roughly to his feet.
The next moment, he thought he had been struck by lightning. He received a blow on the side of his head that stretched him full length on the ground.
When he rose, vaguely wondering what had happened, he confronted not the boy he had assaulted, but a strong, athletic man, with a powerful frame, and a stern, resolute eye.
This was Rawson, but he was not alone. Standing between Dean and Dan was another man, younger, but looking quite as powerful, Eben Jones, of Connecticut.
"What do you mean by this outrage?" demanded Kirby, with a baffled look, gnawing his nether lip in abortive wrath.
"That's a question for me to ask, stranger," retorted Rawson coolly. "What do you mean by assaulting this boy?"
"What do I mean? He is my servant, who has deserted and deceived me."