“Hallo! what’s all this?” said Mr Solomon, coming up.
Bunce told him.
“And did he thrash ’em well?” said Mr Solomon, looking rather angry, “the pair of them?”
“No. They were too strong both at once, but that Ragged Jack of a chap that’s been hanging about—him as I told you of this morning—he come out and tackled young Phil when he was on Grant’s back, and my word those two have gone off with their tails between their legs. Licked, sir, licked out and out.”
“I suppose I shall be sent away, sir,” I said, wringing the water out of my shirt-sleeves.
“I suppose you won’t,” said Mr Solomon sharply. “I’ve seen a deal, my lad, and I wondered you didn’t have a turn at them before. I didn’t think you’d got the stuff in you, to tell you the truth.”
“Oh, but he had!” said Bunce. “I wish you’d ha’ seen.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” said Mr Solomon. “No, I’m not; I’m glad. They’ll leave you alone now. There, go and change your things. It was time you did strike. Here, I’ll go with you, or you’ll frighten the missus into fits. I say,” he shouted back, “keep a sharp look-out for that boy, and catch him if you can. I must have him stopped.”
“Poor old Shock!” I thought, as I felt grateful to him for what he had done.
The next minute I was at the gardener’s cottage, being scolded and wiped by Mrs Solomon, who said she had never seen such a sight in her life, and who was not happy till she had me down-stairs in dry things, bathing one of my eyes, putting a leech on the other, and carefully strapping up a cut on the back of my head.