“There’s a sulky one!” said Bob, with a coarse laugh; and as he spoke it was as if he were appealing to old Dan’l and Peter in turn. “He would do it. I tried to hold him back, but he would do it, and he made me come, and now he turns on me like that.”
“You’re a nice un,” said Peter, staring hard at the boy.
“So are you!” said the young scamp insolently. “You mind yer own business, and look arter him. He’s got to look arter me—ain’t yer, sir!”
“Yes,” said old Dan’l sourly; “and I’m going to stuff a hankychy or something else into your mouth if you don’t hold your tongue.”
“Oh, are yer!” said Bob boldly. “I should just like to see yer do it.”
“Then you shall if you don’t keep quiet.”
Bob was silent for a few minutes, and then amused himself by making a derisive grimace at Dan’l as soon as he was looking another way.
“It was all his fault,” he said sullenly. “He would take the boat.”
“Ah, there was about six o’ one of you, and half a dozen of the other,” said Peter, laughing. “You’ll get it, young fellow. Six weeks hard labour, and then four years in a reformatory. That’s about your dose.”
“Is it?” said Bob derisively. “That’s what he’ll get, and serve him right—a sneak.”