"What do you want?" asked Jasper, trying to make it as pleasant as possible, before the more summary treatment set in.
"I've got to speak to him," said the boy. Thomas, gathering up the reins in one hand and the whip in the other, looked around with fury in his eye. "Shall I give him a lick?" he asked.
"No, no," said Jasper hastily, "keep quiet, Thomas."
"I've nothing to say to you," cried Mr. King in his most pompous way, and with a stately wave of his hand, "so take yourself off, boy."
"Father—" began Jasper, in a distressed tone.
"And be quick about it." The old gentleman fairly roared it out. "Thomas, drive on."
That functionary, with a very dissatisfied expression that he hadn't been allowed to use his whip when he got it all ready so nicely, now cracked it at the horses. The boy, with one hesitating glance at Jasper, slid off the carriage-step down to the street, and yelled defiantly up into Mr. King's face as the brougham spun off:
"I was going to tell you where your boy is."
"Father!" exclaimed Jasper, with a white face, "he must know where Joel is. Thomas, Thomas, stop!" For Thomas, having no other way to vent his vexation, took it out in driving as fast as possible, so he didn't hear what was going on in the coach.
"Eh?" Mr. King was saying in bewilderment. At last Jasper succeeded in getting his wishes known, and once more the horses were jerked back, for the summons was quick and sharp.