"My dear sir!" protested the Manager, "why should I wish to kick you in any position?"
He must be fatally injured, if even the Manager had relented!
"Is—is Alfred there?" asked Tourmalin, anxiously. "Keep him away, if you can!"
"Certainly!" said Mr. Perkins. "Who is Alfred?"
"Why, the—the man with the revolver. I thought you knew!"
"Come, come," said the Manager, "there's no man of that kind here, I assure you. Pull yourself together, sir; you're on board the Boomerang now!"
"I know," said Peter, dolefully,—"I know I am!"
He shut his eyes resignedly. He was about to receive some other portion of his time-balance. If he could only hope that no fresh complications would arise! Would he meet Miss Tyrrell or Miss Davenport next, he wondered, and how would they behave?
"Haven't you had sleep enough yet?" said the Manager. "You're not more than half-awake even now!"