Tony's damaged lips framed themselves into a low whistle. "Lopez, was it!" he said softly. "I ought to have guessed. There was a touch of the expert about that punch."
"'E ain't 'urt yer, 'as 'e, sir?" demanded Bugg anxiously.
"Oh, no," said Tony, "but he had a very praise-worthy try."
Bugg chuckled. "You done it on 'im proper, sir. I seed 'is face w'en 'e come aht in the lamp-light, and 'e didn't look as if 'e wanted no more. Any'ow 'e wasn't exac'ly waitin' for it."
"Bolted, I suppose?" said Tony laconically.
Bugg nodded. "Run like a stag, sir. I didn't go after 'im, not far: I reckoned you might be wantin' me 'ere."
"Well, we'd better be getting into the house," said Tony. "We shall have some of the neighbours out in a minute. They are not used to these little scuffles in Hampstead."
Even as he spoke one of the front gates clicked, and an elderly gentleman in carpet slippers and a purple dressing-gown appeared on the pavement. He was clutching a poker in his right hand, and he seemed to be in a state of considerable agitation.
On seeing the small group he came to an abrupt halt, and drew back his weapon ready for instant action.
"What has happened?" he demanded shrilly. "I insist upon knowing what has happened."