“You give me my bundle,” I said, making a snatch at it, and getting hold with one hand, to which I soon joined the other.
“’Taint your bundle,” he said fiercely. “Let go, or I’ll soon let you know. Let go, will yer?”
He shook at it savagely, and dragged me here and there, for he was the bigger and stronger; but I held on with all my might. I was horribly frightened of him, for he was a coarse, ruffianly-looking fellow; but inside that bundle was my little all, and I determined not to give it up without a struggle.
“Here, you wait till I get my knife out,” he roared. “It’s my bundle, yer young thief!”
“It is not,” I panted: “you stole it from me while I lay asleep.”
“Yer lie! Take that!”
That was a heavy blow on my chin which cut my lip, and seemed to loosen my teeth, causing me intense pain; but though for a moment I staggered back, the blow had just the opposite effect to that intended by the boy. A few moments before, I was so horribly afraid of him, that I felt that I must give up; now the pain seemed to have driven all the fear out of me, for, springing at him with clenched fists, I struck out wildly, and with all my might; the bundle went down in the dust, and, after a minutes scuffle, and a shower of blows, there, to my intense astonishment, lay the boy too, grovelling and twisting about, rubbing his eyes with his fists, and howling dismally.
“You let me alone; I never did nothing to you,” he whined.
“You did; you stole my bundle,” I cried, in the heat of my triumph.
“No, I didn’t. I on’y picked it up. I didn’t know it was yourn.”