The Lost Middy | Page 9

all that had gone before, on the part of the stranger from the Den, was mere sparring and self-defence. Aleck meant fighting now, and he fought, showering down such volleys of blows that, at the end of a couple of minutes, in spite of a brave defence and the planting of nasty cracks about his adversary's unguarded face, the big lad was being knocked here and there, up, down, and round about, till the shouts and cries about him lowered into a dull, dead hum. The pier stones reeled and rose and sank and seemed to imitate the waves that floated in, and when at last, in utter despair, he locked Aleck in his arms and tried to throw him, he received such a stunning blow between the eyes that he loosened his grasp to shake his head, which the next moment was knocked steady and inert, the big fellow going down all of a heap, and the back of his big bullet skull striking the pier stones with a heavy resounding bump.
CHAPTER THREE.
In his excitement it seemed to Aleck that the real fight was now about to begin, for the little mob of boys uttered an angry yell upon seeing their champion's downfall, and were crowding in. But he was wrong, for a gruff voice was heard from the fishermen, who had at last bestirred themselves to see more of what they called the fun, and another deep-toned voice, accompanying the pattering of two wooden legs, came from the direction of the steps.
"Here, that'll do, you dogs!" cried the first voice, and--
"Stand fast, Master Aleck, I'm a-coming," cried the other.
The effect on the boys was magical, and they gave way in all directions before the big fisherman who had asked for the "iles" for his shoulders, a medicament he did not seem to require, for his joints worked easily as he threw out his arms with a mowing action, right and left, and with a force that would have laid the inimical lads down in swathes if they had not got out of the way.
"Well done, young Aleck Donne," he cried. "Licked Big Jem, have yer? Hansum too. Do him good. Get up--d'yer hear--before I give yer my boot! I see yer leading the lot on arter the young gent, like a school o' dogfish. Hullo, Tom, you was nigher. Why didn't yer come up and help the young gen'leman afore?"
"'Cause I didn't know what was going on, matey," cried the sailor. "Why didn't yer hail me, Master Aleck?"
"Because I didn't want to be helped," cried the boy, huskily, his voice quivering with indignation. "A set of cowards!"
"So they are, Master Aleck," cried the sailor, joining in the lad's indignation. "On'y wish I'd knowed. I'd ha' come up with the boat-hook."
"Never mind; it arn't wanted," said the big fisherman. "Young Mr Donne's given him a pretty good dressing down, and if this here pack arn't off while their shoes are good we'll let him give it to a few more."
"I want to know what their fathers is about," growled the sailor. "I never see such a set. They're allus up to some mischief."
"Ay, ay, that's a true word," cried another fisherman.
"That's so," growled the sailor, who, as he spoke, kept on brushing Aleck down and using his forearm as a brush to remove the dust and debris from the champion's jacket.
"Pity he didn't leather another couple of 'em," cried the big fisherman.
"Ay," growled the sailor. "I don't want to say anything unneighbourly, but it seems a pity that some on 'em don't get swep' up by the next press-gang as lands. A few years aboard a man-o'-war'd be the best physic for some o' them. Look at all this here rubbidge about! I see 'em. Got it ready to fling at the young gent. I know their games."
"Nay, nay," said the big fisherman, as a low, angry murmur arose, and ignoring the allusion to the fish debris lying about, "we don't want no press-gangs meddling here."
"Yes, you do," said the sailor, angrily, as he applied a blue cotton neckerchief he had snatched off and shaken out, alternately to a cut on Aleck's forehead and to his swollen nose, which was bleeding freely. "Nice game this, arn't it? I know what I'm saying. I was pressed myself when I was twenty, and sarved seven year afore I come home with a pension. It made a man o' me, and never did me no harm."
There was a hoarse roar of laughter at this, several of the fishermen stamping about in their mirth, making the sailor cease his ministrations and stand staring, and beginning to mop his hot forehead with the neckerchief.
"What are yer grinning at?" he said, angrily, with the result that the laughter grew louder.
"Have I smudged my face with