Bailey thrust his hands in his pockets, looking up at the stranger with the dogged look in his eyes.
"The place was pitch dark; why didn't they have a light in the place?"
"Because there didn't happen to be a light in the place, is that any reason why you should go smashing everything you could lay your hands on? Why couldn't you wait for a light? Go on with you! I'll take the skin off your back!"
"How much?" asked the stranger, paying no attention to Mr. Stephen's eloquence.
"There's a heap of mischief done, heap of mischief!" wailed the old lady in the rear.
"How am I to tell all the mischief that's been done? Just look at the place; a sovereign wouldn't cover it, no, that it wouldn't."
"There isn't five shillings' worth of harm," said Bertie. "If you were to get five shillings, you'd make a profit of half a crown."
The stranger laughed, and Mr. Huffham scowled; the look which he cast at Bertie was not exactly a look of love, but the boy met it without any sign of flinching.
"I'll be even with you yet, my lad!" Mr. Stephen said.
"If I give you a sovereign you will be even," suggested the stranger.