"Didn't I--say--you were--a 'umbug?" cried Dick, panting, and throwing all his energies into a kick. "Yes, and a fool. This is my clever brother, who let himself be taken in by the weakest, transparentest do that ever a man tried to invent. Softening of the brain, have I! That was a pretty hard kick for a man with that complaint!" he roared, as he stood over his brother, threatening with his foot as if about to punish him again. "There! Get up, and out of my house, and never darken the doors again. You ain't a brother to me, and never were. Being born of the same mother only half makes brothers. I'll never own you as mine. Eh? Oh, I've done, Tom, now." Dick made no resistance as Tom dragged him away from his brother; and Max got up, looking very strange about the head, as he hastily picked up and dragged on his wig. "You--you--shall smart for this," he mumbled. "As for you, sir, never enter my house--" "Be off!" roared Dick; and he made at his brother again. "Be off, you artificial sham!" But Tom, with a look of bitter mortification in his face, restrained him; and Max, clinging to Fred, hurried out of the door, leaving Mrs Shingle trembling in a chair, where she had sunk; while Jessie knelt beside her, white as ashes, and holding her hand. It was an ignoble plight, made more absurd by Dick, who suddenly ran to the fireplace and took the tongs, with which he picked up a handkerchief, and ran to the door. "Here, Saint Maximilian!" he shouted, "you've left your weeper;" and he threw the tongs out with a crash into the hall. "Take care!" cried a familiar voice; "_I_ haven't done anything." "What, Hopper, old man!" cried Dick, "you there?" "Yes, I am, and heard it all--all I could," he added, stumping into the room. Dick threw himself laughing into an easy chair, as he heard the door bang; but started up directly, as he saw Tom standing silent and mortified in the middle of the room. "Thankye, Tom," he cried, as he held out his hand, which the young man took for a moment and then dropped. "Ah! you're put out, of course; and I don't wonder. It's enough to rile any young fellow with stuff in him; and you've got that, and acted like a man." Tom gazed at him in silence, but did not try to speak. "He's ordered you out of his house, my lad," continued Dick. "Not pleasant between father and son. There, I ain't going to abuse him," he hastened to add, as Tom made a deprecating gesture; "but don't you mind that,--you acted like a man, and your conscience will set you right. Now, good-bye, my lad; and mind this: if you ever want a hundred pounds, or two hundred, or five hundred pounds, you've only got to say so to your uncle, Richard Shingle, and there it is." "I thank you, sir," said Tom sadly; "but I shall not ask. Good-bye!" "Good-bye?" "Yes. I shall go abroad, and we may never meet again. I cannot stay here now. Good-bye, aunt. Good-bye, Jessie," he cried passionately.