“Well, row, then.”
“Wi’ him,” said the big fellow, pointing at Dick.
“Oh, but he would not have come to you in the night!”
“Who said he would, mester?” growled Bargle menacingly. “Not he. He’d come up square and give a man a doubler in the chest and—”
“Yes, yes,” said the engineer impatiently; “but I want to know who it was made this attack upon you—this cowardly attack. You say it was while you slept.”
“Yes, I s’pose so; but don’t you trouble about that, mester. I’m big enough to fight my bit. I shall drop on to him one of these days, and when I do—why, he’ll find it okkard.”
Mr Marston questioned and cross-questioned the man, but there was no more to be got from him. He s’posed some un come in at that theer door and give it him; but he was so much taken up with Dick’s visit that he could hardly think of self, and when they came away Mr Marston had learned comparatively nothing, the big fellow shouting after Dick:
“I’ve got a tush for you, lad, when I get down to the dreern again—one I digged out, and you shall hev it.”
Dick said, “Thank you,” for the promised “tush,” and walked away.
“I don’t like it,” said Mr Marston. “Someone shooting at me; someone striking down this man. I’m afraid it’s due to ill-will towards me, Dick. But,” he added, laughing, “I will not suspect you, as Bargle lets you off.”