did.  Van put a constable on his track; we found him out, and he confessed it.  A fact, Tom!  That decided me.  If it was only to get rid of a brute, I determined I ’d do it, and I did.  Strike came to me to get my name for a bill that night.  ’Gad, he looked blanker than his bill when he heard of us two bankrupt.  I showed him one or two documents I’d got ready.  Says he:  “Never mind; it’ll only be a couple of hundred more in the schedule.”  Stop, Tom! he’s got some of our blood.  I don’t think he meant it.  He is hard pushed.  Well, I gave him a twentier, and he was off the next night.  You ’ll soon see all about the Company in the papers.’

At the conclusion of Andrew’s recital, Old Tom thrummed and looked on the floor under a heavy frown.  His mouth worked dubiously, and, from moment to moment, he plucked at his waistcoat and pulled it down, throwing back his head and glaring.

’I ‘ve knocked that fellow over once,’ he said.  ’Wish he hadn’t got up again.’

Andrew nodded.

’One good thing, Nan.  He never boasted of our connection.  Much obliged to him.’

‘Yes,’ said Andrew, who was gladly watching Old Tom’s change of mood with a quiescent aspect.

‘Um!—­must keep it quiet from his poor old mother.’

Andrew again affirmatived his senior’s remarks.  That his treatment of Old Tom was sound, he presently had proof of.  The latter stood up, and after sniffing in an injured way for about a minute, launched out his right leg, and vociferated that he would like to have it in his power to kick all the villains out of the world:  a modest demand Andrew at once chimed in with; adding that, were such a faculty extended to him, he would not object to lose the leg that could benefit mankind so infinitely, and consented to its following them.  Then, Old Tom, who was of a practical turn, meditated, swung his foot, and gave one grim kick at the imaginary bundle of villains, discharged them headlong straight into space.  Andrew, naturally imitative, and seeing that he had now to kick them flying, attempted to excel Old Tom in the vigour of his delivery.  No wonder that the efforts of both were heating:  they were engaged in the task of ridding the globe of the larger half of its inhabitants.  Tom perceived Andrew’s useless emulation, and with a sound translated by ‘yack,’ sent his leg out a long way.  Not to be outdone, Andrew immediately, with a still louder ‘yack,’ committed himself to an effort so violent that the alternative between his leg coming off, or his being taken off his leg, was propounded by nature, and decided by the laws of gravity in a trice.  Joyful grunts were emitted by Old Tom at the sight of Andrew prostrate, rubbing his pate.  But Mrs. Sockley, to whom the noise of Andrew’s fall had suggested awful fears of a fratricidal conflict upstairs, hurried forthwith to announce to them that the sovereign remedy for human ills, the promoter of concord, the healer of feuds, the central point of man’s destiny in the flesh—­Dinner, was awaiting them.