The New Forest Spy | Page 4

his rod, separated the two pieces, and delivered a cut with
the butt end, which took effect upon the presented weapon, knocking it
out of its holder's hands, and then, tossing the rod aside, he sprang
forward and closed, while the stranger, breathing hard, finding himself
unarmed, tried to get a grip at his adversary's throat, failed, and wound
his arms well round him instead, following this up by trying to lift
Waller from the ground and throw him backward.
The next moment the beautiful little miniature tropic forest of ferns was
faring badly, being kicked, broken, and trampled down as the two boys,
breathing hard and panting with their exertions, swayed here and there,
and wherever they planted foot there came up a curious crackling sound,
for beneath the huge trees the earth was thickly covered with
beechmast.
"Brute--savage!"
Whop!
The dull sound was caused by the wild-looking young stranger coming
down flat upon his back. For after a brief struggle, during the first part
of which he was furious and strong, all his power seemed to depart at
once like a blown-out flame, while Waller, who had grown stronger
moment by moment, and hotter with temper as he wrestled here and
there, put an end to the struggle as cleverly as any wrestler by heaving

up the frantic youth, and falling with him to the earth.
For quite a minute they lay motionless, arms interlocked and chest to
chest, their breath coming and going with a hoarse, harsh sound, and
their eyes glaring as they looked defiance one at the other. Then, as the
conquered stranger's face grew more savage, Waller's, in his triumph,
slowly softened down into a smile, and as he recovered his breath, he
said triumphantly:
"Done you, in spite of your old pistol! I say, was it loaded?"
There was no reply, but the panting of the stranger's breast seemed to
grow louder.
"You coward!" he groaned out, at last, in a despairing tone.
"Ha, ha!" laughed Waller. "Brute, savage, and now coward! Why, you
were the coward to aim at me with a pistol when I had nothing but a
stick. Suppose it had gone off!"
"I wish it had," panted the prostrate boy, with a vicious look.
"What! Why, it might have killed me!" cried Waller.
"I wish it had," repeated the boy viciously.
"Stuff! You are savage because you are beaten."
"Get off!" cried the stranger; and he made a desperate effort to throw
his adversary from his chest, but only for Waller to wrench out his
hands plant them upon the other's breast, and thrust him down helpless
and exhausted, while he raised himself up, got well astride, and sat up,
laughing in the stranger's face, as he raised one hand and dragged the
strap of the creel over his head and tossed it aside.
"Got rid of you," he muttered. "There, it's no good," he cried. "I have
you quite tight. If you try to get up again I will give you such a
drubbing."

"Oh-oh!" groaned the boy addressed, passionately; and his breast
heaved with the despairing, hysterical sobs that struggled for utterance.
"Ah, that's right!" cried Waller. "You had better lie still. I am too strong
for a fellow like you."
"Yes," panted the other; "I'm beaten. It's all over now."
"Then you give in?" cried Waller, who grew more and more excited in
his triumph, while he gazed down at the distorted countenance beneath
him, wondering who the lad was and why there was a something
un-English in his accent and the turn of his words, though they sounded
native all the same.
"Yes, I give up," panted the boy; "and you can be proud of having
mastered a poor starving wretch who never did you any harm."
"No, because I stopped you," cried Waller. "Who are you, and where
did you steal that pistol?"
"It was my own," said the other proudly.
"But what were you doing with that pistol here?--poaching, I suppose?
Lucky for you my fine fellow, that I stopped you. Do you know what
would have happened to you if you had killed one of the deer? Ha, ha,
ha! Killed one of the deer! Why, you could not have hit a haystack with
that thing."
"Deer!" cried the lad. "I did not want to kill the deer."
"Don't believe you!" cried Waller.
The lad's face flushed, and an indignant flash darted from his eyes.
"How dare you doubt my word of honour," he cried. "Here, let me get
up."
"Shan't! Lie still!" shouted Waller, flinging out his doubled fist and
holding it within a few inches of his prisoner's nose. "Your word of

honour, eh? Why, who do you call yourself, my dirty, ragged Jack,
with your honour! Who are you, and where do