"Quite well," said I.
"Ah, but you should have seen the fellow's face, when he saw my blunderbuss ready at my shoulder; green it was—green as grass, for if ever there was death in a man's face, and sudden death at that, there was sudden death in mine, when, all at once, my mare, my accursed mare, jibbed—"
"Yes, yes?" cried half-a-dozen breathless voices, "what then?"
"Why, then, gentlemen," said the Bagman, shaking his head and frowning round upon the ring of intent faces, "why then, gentlemen, being a resolute, determined fellow, I did what any other man of spirit would have done—I—"
"Dropped your blunderbuss," said I.
"Ay, to be sure I did—"
"And he pitched it into the ditch," said I.
"Ay," nodded the Bagman dubiously, while the others crowded nearer.
"And then he took your money, and called you 'Fool' and 'Fatface,' and so it ended," said I. With which I pushed my way from the circle, and, finding a quiet corner beside the chimney, sat down, and with my last twopence paid for a tankard of ale.