I assisted him on to the step. He made as if to go inside. I twisted him towards the stairs. He remonstrated.
"My dear fellow, I really must beg of you to allow me to get inside this omnibus."
"Nonsense. You'll be crushed to death, besides being suffocated alive. There's plenty of room outside. Up you toddle."
I don't know about toddling, but urged, no doubt, to an appreciable degree by the pressure which I exercised from behind, he did begin to mount the stairs gingerly one by one. I followed him. When he was near the top I sang out to the conductor.
"All right!" The conductor stamped his foot. The 'bus started. Then, to Stacey-Lumpton, "Hold tight!"
He held tight just in time. He seemed surprised. "Good gracious! I almost tumbled! The omnibus has started! Tell him to stop at once, I'm falling!"
"Not you. The police won't allow them to stop more than a certain time. They're bound to keep on moving. Shove along."
"This is most dangerous. I'm not used to this kind of thing. And the roof seems full."
"There are two empty seats in front there, just behind the driver--move on."
He moved on after a fashion of his own. He seemed to find the task of preserving his equilibrium, and at the same time of steering his way between the two rows of occupied garden seats, a little difficult. He struck one man upon the head. He seized a lady by her bonnet. He all but thrust the point of his umbrella into another person's eye. He grabbed an old gentleman by the collar of his coat. This method of proceeding tended to make him popular.