“What will he do?”
“He’ll give you a thrashing.”
“Without asking my permission?” asked Hector, smiling.
“You’re a queer boy! Of course, he won’t trouble himself about that. You don’t seem to mind it,” he continued, eying Hector curiously.
“Oh, no.”
“Perhaps you think Jim can’t hurt. I know better than that.”
“Did he ever thrash you, then?”
“Half a dozen times.”
“Why didn’t you tell his uncle?”
“It would be no use. Jim would tell his story, and old Sock would believe him. But here’s Mr. Crabb, the usher, the man I was to introduce you to.”