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Updated: May 12, 2025
Rowley and Walker, both fearless fighters and quick to resent an insult, only averted their saddened faces and turned aside without a word. "Ye dussen't say it! Well, hark to me then," he continued with white and feverish lips. "I put him up to helpin' himself. I told him to use the kempany's name for credit.
"She yarn't," cried Bob? "Who are you? This ain't your field. Stop as long as I like. Yah!" "Wish I was over the other side and I'd pitch you in, you sarcy young vagabond." "So are you!" cried Bob. "You dussen't touch me. Fish here as long as I like. Pair o' cowards, that's what you are pair o' cowards. Fight either of yer one hand."
Dexter banged down his basket again, and threw in his line with a big splash, as his eyes flashed defiance across the stream. "Ah! it's all very fine," said Bob; "but yer dussen't do that if it weren't for the river. Why, if I'd got yer here I'd bung both yer eyes up for yer. Yah! yer sneak!" "Here, you just be off. D'yer hear!" cried an angry voice; and Peter came up, broom in hand.
"Ax me another," growled Bates. "Who is spreading this rumor? Robinson?" "'E dussen't, sir. 'E looks fierce, but 'e'll 'old 'is tongue. T'super will see to that." "Someone is talking. That is quite certain." "There's a chap in the 'Are an' 'Ounds kem 'ere last night." "Ingerman?" "Ay, sir, that's the name. 'E's makin' a song of it, I hear." "Anybody else?" "Fred Elkin is gassin' about.
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