"You tackle Nick Tresidder, an' I'll 'ave a go with Buddle," said George to me, in a whisper; "he's allays a-braggin' as 'ow 'ee c'n bait me. Now then, jump out!"
At this we both leaped forward. I took Nick Tresidder by the scruff of the neck, while George gripped Buddle like a blacksmith's vice.
The sheep jumped away frightened, while these two blackguards cried out as if the judgment day had come.
"Es et the devil?" asked Buddle.
"No," I roared out, "it isn't the devil; we're not related to you in any way, and your master won't help you."
By this time they found out who we were, and began to wriggle finely.
"Look you, Nick Tresidder," I said; "the law will do nothing for us, so we are going to take the law in our own hands."
"What do you want?" asked Tresidder.
"Nothing unfair," I said. "We are man to man. You are on my land, and you were doing a trick worthy only of the devil, your master. We will wrestle fair, as becomes Cornishmen, and you must show no mercy, for as God is above me I'll show none."
Now I will do these men justice. They were not afraid of us, and when they knew that we were people of this world and not ghosts from the other, they showed no desire to run away. Nick Tresidder was a year older than I, while Buddle always sneered when folks said that George Dawe was a better man than he. Besides, they both saw that we did not mean playing at wrestling.