The Lost Middy | Page 9

Aleck like some poisoned barb. He saw fire for the moment,
and his teeth gritted together, as caution and the practice and skill he
had displayed were no more, for, to use a schoolboy phrase, his
monkey was up and he meant fighting--he meant to use his fists to the
best effect in trying to knock the vile slanderous words, uttered against
the man he loved and venerated, down the utterer's throat, while his
rage against those who crowded around, yelling with delight, took the
form of back strokes with his elbow and more than one sharp blow at
some intruding head.
But it was against the lout who had spoken that the fire of his rage was
principally directed, and the fellow realised at once that 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