I placed mine in his, and he squeezed it so that he hurt me, but I did not flinch.
“I believe you, my lad. You don’t look like a lying sort, and I wish you were out of this. Now, tell me, did he make that cut on your head?” I nodded. “What with?”
“That ruler.”
“Humph! And what for?”
“Because I let you in on that day.”
“Hang him!” he cried, striding up and down the office, for he had walked straight in, “he’s a bigger scoundrel than I thought him. Now, look here, my man, there’s going to be an action, or a trial, or something, against me, and you’ll be the principal witness. Now, what are you going to do?”
“Going to do, sir?”
“Yes,” he said impatiently; “you’ll have to appear before the magistrates, and you’ll be asked all about my thrashing your master. What are you going to say?”
“I shall tell them the truth, sir.”
“No, you won’t, my boy. You’ll say what Mr Blakeford tells you to say.”