“Not afraid of you!” retorted Jack Rily, contemptuously.
“You would have run away if you could,” said his enemy.
“You are a liar, Bob,” was the savage response.
“No—it’s you that tells the lie, Jack. I’ve watched you narrerly—and I could see all that was a-passing in your mind as plain as if it was a book.”
“But you can’t read a book, Bob, when you have it open before you.”
“There you’re wrong, Doctor: I’ve had my hedication as well as you.”
“And a pretty use you’ve made of it! But I don’t see any use in our standing palavering here: I want to get back to London—and so the sooner you let me polish you off, the better.”
“I’m as anxious to come to the scratch as you. Where shall it be?”
“In the field close by, Bob. We may be interrupted in the road.”
“And yet there’s nothink and no one to be seen.”