“Let go, Dick! Let go, I tell you!” said Barney, struggling in his brother's embrace; “stop it, now!”
With a mighty effort he threw Dick off from him and stood on guard with an embarrassed, half-shamed, half-indignant laugh. The crowd gathered near in delighted expectation. There was always something sure to happen when Dick “got after” his older brother.
“He won't let me kiss him,” cried Dick pitifully, to the huge enjoyment of the crowd.
“It's too bad, Dick,” they cried.
“So it is. But I'm not going to be put off. It's a shame!” replied Dick, in a hurt tone. “And me just home, too.”
“It's a mean shame, Dick. Wouldn't stand it a minute,” cried his sympathisers.
“I won't either,” cried Dick, preparing to make an attack.
“Look here, Dick,” cried Barney impatiently, “just quit your nonsense or I'll throw you on the floor there and sit on you. Besides, you're spoiling the music.”
“Well, well, that's so,” said Dick. “So on Miss Lane's account I'll forbear, provided, that is, she sings again, as, of course, she will.”
It was Dick's custom to assume command in every company where he found himself.