"Stop that!" he roared, "stop that, you old hypocritical scoundrel! You hit that boy another lick and I'll knock you as flat as a flounder!" The hand that held the whip dropped at Fox's side, and the other loosed its hold on Max as he turned and faced his assailant.
"What do you mean by coming here to interfere in my business ?" he demanded.
"I mean to protect the weak against the strong, sir.

I consider that my business.

You've given that boy more unmerciful beatings already than he ought to have had in a lifetime, and he not at all a bad boy either.

I know all about that padlock affair, though he's never breathed a word to me on the subject, and I'd enjoy nothing better than thrashing you soundly; what's more I'll do it if ever I know you to strike him again; or my name's not Bill Simpson.

Max, if he ever does, you've only to let 'Big Bill' hear of it and he'll get ten times more than he's given." "Thank you, Bill," said Max, running to the big, kind-hearted fellow and giving him his hand.