I do believe there's a strange dog under the counter! Get out--get out, sir, I say!" and my cruel parent gave me a vicious kick.
I pinched his leg impressively.

I meant it as a warning, to betray to him that it was I, and to implore him, figuratively, to keep silence.
But he refused to comprehend that agonized pinch; he resented it.

He gave another vicious kick.

Then he stooped and looked under--it was a little dark--too dark, alas! under there.

He saw a man--but not to recognize him.
"Ho!" he yelled; "robber! thief! burglar! I've got you, fellow! Come out o' that!" I never before realized father's strength.