“May I sit down, please?” said Green, pulling forward a chair.

“Oh yes, sit down!  Sit down and argue!” said the squire irritably.  “You’re always ready with some plausible excuse for that half-witted young scoundrel.  I’ll tell you what it is, Dick.  If you don’t get rid of him after this, there’ll be a split between us.  I’m not going to countenance your infernal obstinacy any longer.  The boy is unsafe and he must go.”

Green sat, leaning forward, courteously attentive, his eyes unwavering fixed upon his patron’s irate countenance.

He did not immediately reply to the mandate, and the squire’s frown deepened.  “You hear me, Dick?” he said.

Green nodded.  “Yes, sir.”

“Well?” Fielding’s hand clenched upon the paper in exasperation.

Dick’s eyes very bright, wholly undismayed, continued to meet his with unvarying steadiness.  “I’m very sorry, sir,” he said.  “The answer is the same as usual.  I can’t.”

“Won’t—­you mean!” There was a sound in the squire’s voice like the muffled roar of an angry animal.

Dick’s black brows travelled swiftly upward and came down again.  “He’s my boy, sir,” he said.  “I’ll be responsible for all he does.”

“But—­damn it!” ejaculated the squire.  “Making yourself responsible for a mad dog doesn’t prevent his biting people, does it?  He’s become a public danger, I tell you.  You’ve no right to let him loose on the neighbourhood.”

“No, no, sir!” Dick broke in quickly.  “That’s not a fair thing to say.  The boy is as harmless as any of us if he isn’t baited.  I knew—­I knew perfectly well—­that there was a reason for what he did to-day.  So there was.  I’m not going into details.  Besides, he was clearly in the wrong.  But you may take it from me—­he was provoked.”

“Oh!  Was he?” said the squire.  “And who provoked him?  Jack?”

Dick hesitated momentarily, then:  “Yes, Jack,” he said briefly.  “He had some reason, but he’s such a tactless ass.  He blames Robin of course.  Everyone always does.”

“Except you,” said the squire drily.  “Oh, and Miss Moore!  She makes excuses for him at every turn.”

“She would,” said Dick simply.

“I don’t know why,” snapped Fielding.  He suddenly laid a hand on the younger man’s arm, gripping it mercilessly.  “Look here, Richard!  Do you want me to break you?  Because that’s what it’s coming to.  Do you hear?  That’s what it’s coming to.  You’re getting near the end of your tether.”

Dick’s eyes flashed with swift comprehension over the angry face before him, and an answering flicker of anger sprang up in them for an instant; but he kept himself in hand.

“Get me kicked out, you mean?” he said coolly.  “Yes, sir, no doubt you could if you tried hard enough.  You’re all powerful here, aren’t you?  What you say, goes.”

“It does,” said Fielding grimly.  “And I don’t care a damn what I do when my monkey’s up.  You know that, don’t you?"’