“Nor yet about my trying to kick Mr Drummond,” said Bracy, without heeding his fellow—sufferer’s words.
“Oh no; I shan’t say nothing to nobody, sir, unless you tell me to.”
“That’s right,” said Bracy, with a sigh of relief. “That will do. Go now; I want to sleep till Mr Drummond comes back.”
“Right, sir,” said Gedge, and he went to the bed’s head and gently raised the sufferer, while he turned the pillow.
“Makes yer head a bit cooler, sir.”
“Yes, thanks, Gedge,” said Bracy drowsily; and by the time the lad was outside he was half-asleep.
“I don’t like them games of the guvnor’s,” said Gedge to himself.—“Guvnor? Well, why not? I’m like being orficer’s servant now. There’s something queer about him, as if he was a bit off his head and it made him get up to larks; for he can’t be— No, no, that’s impossible, even if it looks like it. He ain’t the sorter chap to be playing at sham Abram and make-believe because he was sick of fighting and didn’t want to run no more risks.”