The gentleman who had disturbed me did not wait for further developments. He must have been a tough soul, for, despite his collision with the wall, he set off like a hare, twisting away round the corner to the left, and disappearing from sight before the newcomer could reach us.
Directly the latter came under the full glare of the nearest electric lamp, I saw it was Billy. I gave a whoop of joy, which pulled him up short in his tempestuous career.
"Burton!" he cried. "Gad! I might have known it." Then he burst out laughing. "Where's the other chap?" he demanded. "Have you eaten him?"
"No, Billy," I said. "He's gone—vamoosed. He didn't like the look of you." Then a sharp pain flickered through my shoulder. "I believe he's punctured me, though," I added ruefully.
In a moment Billy was by my side. "Bad?" he demanded sharply. "Can you wait while I fetch him back?"
I laughed and shook my head. "I don't want him, Billy," I said; "thanks all the same. Give us an arm and let's get back to the house. It's all right—I'm not booked this journey."
"Not by a long way," cried Billy stoutly. "It would take a pickaxe to kill you. Come along, and we'll have a squint at it."
I could feel the blood running rather freely down my arm, so, without wasting any more time, I accepted the support he offered, and we toddled up the pavement as far as my gate. I was still holding the latch-key in my hand, but there was no need of it, for the front door was wide open.
"Hullo, Billy," I said; "have you been entertaining in my absence?"
"I'll tell you all about it in a minute," he replied. "Damages first, though. You may have got it worse than you think."