Then Harold passed swiftly out of my life.

Mr. Rocksworth, reinforced by four reluctant mercenaries in the shape
of porters, was advancing upon me. Somehow I had a vague, but unerring
instinct that some one had fainted, but I didn't stop to inquire.
Without much ado, I wrested the cane from him and sent it scuttling
after Harold.

"Now, get out!" I roared.

"You shall pay for this!" he sputtered, quite black in the face. "Grab
him, you infernal cowards!"

But the four porters slunk away, and Mr. Rocksworth faced me alone.
Rudolph and Max, thoroughly fed and _most_ prodigious, were bearing
down upon us, accounting for the flight of the mercenaries.

"Get out!" I repeated. "I am the owner of this place, Mr. Rocksworth,
and I am mad through and through. Skip!"

"I'll have the law--"

"Law be hanged!"

"If it costs me a million, I'll get--"

"It _will_ cost you a million if you don't get!" I advised him, seeing
that he paused for want of breath.