And Mr. Buck sat down amid subdued but excited applause among the allies.
"Mr. Buck," said the King, "I beg your pardon, for a number of beautiful and sacred thoughts, in which you were generally classified as a fool. But there is another thing to be considered. Suppose you send in your workmen, and Mr. Wayne does a thing regrettable indeed, but of which, I am sorry to say, I think him quite capable—knocks their teeth out?"
"I have thought of that, your Majesty," said Mr. Buck, easily, "and I think it can simply be guarded against. Let us send in a strong guard of, say, a hundred men—a hundred of the North Kensington Halberdiers" (he smiled grimly), "of whom your Majesty is so fond. Or say a hundred and fifty. The whole population of Pump Street, I fancy, is only about a hundred."
"Still they might stand together and lick you," said the King, dubiously.
"Then say two hundred," said Buck, gaily.
"It might happen," said the King, restlessly, "that one Notting Hiller fought better than two North Kensingtons."
"It might," said Buck, coolly; "then say two hundred and fifty."
The King bit his lip.
"And if they are beaten too?" he said viciously.