“He was to come here yesterday, and he never did.”
“It wasn’t his fault; that’s why I’ve come to-day.”
“I said I’d go in and report him to Mr. Thrale, if he slipped me up twice.”
“'Blab’ was your word, Mulberry!”
“Have you seen what I wrote?”
“I happen to have got it in my pocket.”
Mulberry lurched a little nearer. Jan shook his head with a grin.
“It may come in useful, Mulberry, if you ever get drunk enough to do as you threaten.”
“Useful, may it?”
If the red eyes fixed on Jan had been capable of flashing, they would have done so now. They merely watered as though with blood. Till this moment man and boy had been only less preoccupied with the flies than with each other. Mulberry with the battered hat had vied with Jan and his handkerchief in keeping the little brutes at bay. But at this point the swollen sot allowed the flies to cover his hideousness like a spotted veil. It was only for seconds, yet to Jan it was almost proof that the scamp had something to fear, that his pressure on Evan was rather more than extortionate. His expressionless stare had turned suddenly expressive. That could not be the flies. Nor was it only what Jan thought it was.