“I did,” said Dick quietly.
“Try to, sir?”
“No; I knocked him down.”
“Glad of it, sir,” said the sergeant, smiling grimly. “It’s a pity, though, because the scoundrel will go and talk it over with some of the meddling baboo fellows, and they’ll advise him to make a complaint.”
“What! after ill-using my horse?”
“Oh, he’ll swear that he didn’t, sir.”
“But he did; and there are all the grooms who were present to prove it.”
“Oh, they’ll swear anything for him, sir. But don’t you worry about that; only pay what’s owing to the nigger and let him go.—’Tention! I wish, sir, you’d make a bit more of a try about stiffening yourself up; it’s getting time you made some show.”
“Why. I thought I was pretty well all right now, Sergeant.”
“But you’re not, sir. You give too much to your horse. You don’t keep stiff. I’m having a deal of trouble with you.”