“Right,” said Uncle Jack. “Now, then, have you anything here belonging to you? No! Down you come then.”
He collared his prisoner, who turned to kick at him; but a savage snarl from Piter, as I half let him go, checked the fellow, and he suffered himself to be marched to the door, where he stopped.
“Ma beer,” he growled, looking back at the stone bottle.
“Beer! No, you’ve had enough of that,” said Uncle Dick. “Go on down.”
The man walked quietly down the stairs; but when he found that he was to be thrust out into the lane he began to struggle again, and shout, but a fierce hand at his throat stopped that and he was led down to the gate in the wall, where it became my task now to hold the lantern while Uncles Dick and Bob grasped our prisoner’s arms and left Uncle Jack free to untie the cord.
“Be ready to unlock the gate, Cob,” whispered Uncle Jack, as he held his prisoner by one twist of the rope round his arms like a leash. “Now, then, ready! Back, dog, back!”
Piter shrank away, and then at a concerted moment the gate was thrown open, the three brothers loosed their hold of the prisoner at the same moment, and just as he was turning to try and re-enter, a sharp thrust of the foot sent him flying forward, the gate was banged to, and locked, and we were congratulating ourselves upon having ridded ourselves of an ugly customer, when the gate shook from the effect of a tremendous blow that sounded as if it had been dealt with a paving-stone.