As he spoke he sat down on the edge with his legs dangling over the side.
“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Philip, seating himself opposite to him and kicking at his brother’s feet. “You daren’t go.”
“You say I daren’t go again I’ll take you by the scruff of the neck and make you go down instead. I say, let’s send the pauper down to swallow the foul air.”
“There, I knew you daren’t go,” cried Philip.
“I dare.”
“You daren’t.”
“He shall not go,” I cried; and I caught the lad by the collar.
He gave himself a twist, and as he freed himself he struck me a savage blow with his elbow right in the lower part of the chest.
The blow took away my breath and made me stagger back in agony, and gasping, while by the time I had recovered myself he had stepped on to the ladder, gone down several rounds, and his head disappeared.
“There, coward, what do you think of that?” cried Philip.