“A cut, sir.”
“What! Did you tumble down?”
“No, sir. It was done the day you—you beat Mr Blakeford.”
“How?”
I was silent.
“He—he didn’t dare to do it, did he?”
I was still silent.
“Look here, youngster, tell me the truth and I’ll give you a shilling.”
“I never told a lie yet, sir,” I said stoutly, “and I don’t want your shilling.”
He looked at me intently for a few moments, and then held out his hand. “Shake hands,” he said.