One after another the shrill voices sounded above the general noise and clatter, but Bill shook his head.
“Not near enough,” he said; “and come to think of it, I shall keep it myself, and have some sport with it. We’ll have a cat-chase, sure’s my name’s Bill.”
As he spoke, another boy joined the group. He was much smaller than Bill, slight and thin, with a brown face and very twinkling dark eyes. His clothes were poor, and there was more than one hole in the ragged jacket buttoned tightly round him.
“I’ll give yer my knife for’t, Bill,” he said quickly.
This was a good offer. Bill hesitated; but casting a glance at the boy’s dark eager face, he exclaimed:
“Ah, it’s you, is it, Dan Tuvvy; then don’t you wish you may get it? I’ll just keep it myself.”
“’Tain’t yourn,” said Dan shrilly.
“’Tain’t yourn, anyhow,” said Bill, with a glare in his green eyes.
The small boy’s features worked with excitement. “I’ll fight yer for it, then,” he said, doubling his fists, and at this there was a loud laugh from the others, for he was about half Bill’s size.