It isn't giving you a square
deal. Never mind, it's coming off in a few minutes, never to return,
and then, perhaps, you'll remember that you've a father."
"Fa-a-a-ar!" shrieked William Bannister triumphantly, taking the cue
with admirable swiftness.
He leaped at Kirk, and Kirk swung him up in
the air. It was quite an effort, for William Bannister had grown
astonishingly in the past year.
"Pop," said he firmly, as if resolved to prevent any possibility of
mistake. "Daddy," he added, continuing to play upon the theme. He
summed up. "You're my pop."
Then, satisfied that this was final and that there could now be no
chance for Kirk to back out of the contract, he reached out a hand and
gave a tug at the beard which had led to all the confusion.
"What's this?"
"You may well ask," said Kirk. "I got struck that way because I left
you and mummy for a whole year. But now I'm back I'm going to be
allowed to take it off and give it away. Whom shall I give it to?
Steve? Do you think Steve would like it? Yes, you can go on pulling it;
it won't break. On the other hand, I should just like to mention that
it's hurting something fierce, my son. It's fastened on at the other
end, you know."
"Why?"
"Don't ask me. That's the way it's built."
William Bannister obligingly disentangled himself from the beard.
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