Ginger, pale and shaken, sat up and smiled feebly.
"Time?" he said. "I'll have another round."
"Not a bit of it," said Harry. "He kicked you on the ground. Didn't you know? It was foul play. What was it all about?"
"I didn't kick him," muttered Stoneway.
"That's a lie. I saw you do it," said Kenneth. "What's the row, Ginger?"
"Well, what you may call a bit of a shindy," Ginger replied. "Just between ourselves, like. I'm ready for another go."
"No. Come, out with it, man."
"Well, I was traipsing along with that there basket on my head when up he comes and starts rounding on me for chipping him. 'I'm not having any truck with grousers,' says I. Then we had a few words, and he got me one afore I was ready, that I own. But I can't hardly believe he kicked me when I was down, and a bit dazed like."
"He did. You take a rest and recover: we'll settle with him."
"What are you talking about?" Stoneway blustered.