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"Barnabas? Barnabas? Oh, this be you, my lad--bean't it, Barnabas?"

Yet still he stood with bent head, his griping fingers clenched hard

upon the chair-back, while the cla

"Throw him out!"

"Pitch the fellonstairs, so his coat,

"if nobody else will, I'll have a try at hiht fib well Coet out of here or--put 'em up, you know,--dooce

take me, but you must!"

But as he advanced, Barnabas lifted his head and staying hi alone, the centre of

an angry circle And John Barty's eyes ide and troubled, and

his usually ruddy cheek showed pale, though with so of threatening figures that

hemmed him in, he beheld the white, stricken face of his son And,

seeing it, John Barty groaned, and so took a step towards the door;

but no entleo!" Then, even as

the sta words were uttered, Barnabas strode forward into the

circle and, slipping a hand within his father's nerveless arm,

looked round upon the coh