"If you know me, Mole," he said meaningly, "then beware of me."
Mole's only reply was to grapple with him with all his strength.
But the foolish old man was hurled to the ground, and then one of the brigands fell upon him, brandishing a huge knife.
Hunston here interfered, and gave a command which made the men laugh very heartily.
A fresh outrage was perpetrated, and in the space of two minutes, Mr. Mole found himself alone, and on his back.
"Hunston, you black-hearted thief," he cried, "I'll follow you if—"
He tried to rise, but down he went again.
He was lop-sided.
And why?
The brigands had amputated one of his wooden legs.