“Thompson says I’ve got to look after him,” Jeremy explained.
“But he’s the worst of the lot,” Riley complained disgustedly.
“Well, I’ve got to anyway,” said Jeremy shortly.
The sad part of it was that Baltimore was by no means grateful for Jeremy’s championship.
“You might have come in earlier,” he said. “I don’t call that looking after me.”
He now followed Jeremy like a shadow, a complaining, snivelling, whining shadow.
Jeremy expostulated.
“Look here,” he said. “We needn’t be together all the time. If you’re in trouble or anything you just give me a shout. I’m sure to be round somewhere.”
But Baltimore shook his head.
“That isn’t what Mr. Thompson said,” he remarked. “He said that you’d look after me. But how can you look after me if you’re not there?”