So, why! they just took him off and kidnapped him. That 's all!"
All this explanation Mr. Kirby delivered in the easy tones of the man of the world who is setting things to rights and preventing hysterical people from tearing each other's eyes out.
"There you are," went on Mr. Kirby, flourishing his hands gently in front of him, "there you are! Mr. McAuley couldn't get his money. Thought he 'd got you. Cheque book, no conscious fraud. …"
Here Mr. Brassington was no longer to be controlled. He pushed back his chair, leant over the table, looked at poor Jimmy with a Day of Judgment look, and said with intense determination—
"You shall answer for it, sir, and I will not listen to your father or to your friends."
Mr. Kirby looked up at the ceiling, then he looked straight down the table, then he looked up at Mr. Brassington, and Mr. Brassington sat down.
"Brassington," said Kirby, when he had got his audience, "you have no action against Mr, McAuley, your action is against Professor Higginson. If you bring it, Professor Higginson is ruined, and your son
