Why, if I'd hit that boy with that there fist as hard as ever I could, there wouldn't be no boy now, only a coroner's inquess.

Bah! I wonder at you, Sir Francis! There's none of my marks on him, only where I gripped his arms.

Take off your jacket, youngster, and show your pa." "How dare you!" cried Philip indignantly.
"Take off your jacket, sir!" roared Sir Francis, and trembling and flushing, Philip did as he was told, and at a second bidding rolled up his sleeves to show the marks of Ike's fingers plainly enough.
Ike said nothing now, but uttered a low grunt.
"He did hit me," cried Philip excitedly.
"No; I hit you," I cried, "when I rushed at you first.

I followed you after I'd heard you scramble over the wall." "Oh!" cried Philip with an indignant look.
"You heard them scramble over the wall ?" said Sir Francis sharply.
"Yes, Sir Francis.

I think it was by the big keeping-pear that is trained horizontally--that large old tree, the last in the row." Sir Francis sat back in his chair for a few moments in silence; and Courtenay said to his brother in a whisper, but loud enough for everyone to hear: "Did you ever hear anyone go on like that!" Sir Francis took no notice, but slowly rose from his seat, crossed the room, opened the French window that looked out upon the lawn, and then said: "Hand me a candle, Brownsmith." The candle was placed in his hands, and he walked with it right out on to the lawn and then held it above his head.
Then, walking back into the room, he took up another candlestick.
"Let everyone stay as he is till I come back." "Do you mean us to stay here, papa--with these people ?" said Courtenay haughtily.
Sir Francis stopped short and looked at him sternly without speaking, making the boy blench.