"My lad," he said, "it's evident that you didn't get enough flogging when you were at school, or you'd know better manners; I must take you in hand a bit now, sir, there!"
With his stick he gave a cut to the palm of Murray's hand, just as he was wont to do to refractory pupils in the old days.
Murray was livid with rage.
Chivey, now rather afraid of Mole, didn't interfere.
"Come on, if you like, and have some more," said Mole, and shaking his stick at both of them, he again urged on his wild career.
Very wild indeed it was, too.
Mole's patent legs, which outwardly looked natural ones, were indeed self-regulating, for they were soon utterly beyond the control of the wearer; they seemed to be possessed of wills of their own; one wished to go to the right, the other to the left.
Sometimes they would carry him along in double quick march time, and anon halt, beyond all his power of budging.
Of course the boys of the town were attracted by the stranger's singular movements, and began to hoot and jeer.
The merchants were interrupted at their calculations, the bazaar keepers came to their doors, long pipe in mouth, to see what the "son of Sheitan" was about.