Part 28 (1/2)
”Mr. Greyson is a nice man,--isn't he, d.i.c.k?” asked Henry, as they were turning into Mott Street, and were already in sight of their lodging-house.
”Aint he, though?” said d.i.c.k. ”He treated us just as if we were young gentlemen.”
”Ida seemed to take a great fancy to you.”
”She's a tip-top girl,” said d.i.c.k, ”but she asked so many questions that I didn't know what to say.”
He had scarcely finished speaking, when a stone whizzed by his head, and, turning quickly, he saw Micky Maguire running round the corner of the street which they had just pa.s.sed.
CHAPTER XVIII
MICKY MAGUIRE'S SECOND DEFEAT
d.i.c.k was no coward. Nor was he in the habit of submitting pa.s.sively to an insult. When, therefore, he recognized Micky as his a.s.sailant, he instantly turned and gave chase. Micky antic.i.p.ated pursuit, and ran at his utmost speed. It is doubtful if d.i.c.k would have overtaken him, but Micky had the ill luck to trip just as he had entered a narrow alley, and, falling with some violence, received a sharp blow from the hard stones, which made him scream with pain.
”Ow!” he whined. ”Don't you hit a feller when he's down.”
”What made you fire that stone at me?” demanded our hero, looking down at the fallen bully.
”Just for fun,” said Micky.
”It would have been a very agreeable s'prise if it had hit me,” said d.i.c.k. ”S'posin' I fire a rock at you jest for fun.”
”Don't!” exclaimed Micky, in alarm.
”It seems you don't like agreeable s'prises,” said d.i.c.k, ”any more'n the man did what got hooked by a cow one mornin', before breakfast.
It didn't improve his appet.i.te much.”
”I've most broke my arm,” said Micky, ruefully, rubbing the affected limb.
”If it's broke you can't fire no more stones, which is a very cheerin' reflection,” said d.i.c.k. ”Ef you haven't money enough to buy a wooden one I'll lend you a quarter. There's one good thing about wooden ones, they aint liable to get cold in winter, which is another cheerin' reflection.”
”I don't want none of yer cheerin' reflections,” said Micky, sullenly. ”Yer company aint wanted here.”
”Thank you for your polite invitation to leave,” said d.i.c.k, bowing ceremoniously. ”I'm willin' to go, but ef you throw any more stones at me, Micky Maguire, I'll hurt you worse than the stones did.”
The only answer made to this warning was a scowl from his fallen opponent. It was quite evident that d.i.c.k had the best of it, and he thought it prudent to say nothing.
”As I've got a friend waitin' outside, I shall have to tear myself away,” said d.i.c.k. ”You'd better not throw any more stones, Micky Maguire, for it don't seem to agree with your const.i.tution.”
Micky muttered something which d.i.c.k did not stay to hear. He backed out of the alley, keeping a watchful eye on his fallen foe, and rejoined Henry Fosd.i.c.k, who was awaiting his return.
”Who was it, d.i.c.k?” he asked.
”A partic'lar friend of mine, Micky Maguire,” said d.i.c.k. ”He playfully fired a rock at my head as a mark of his 'fection. He loves me like a brother, Micky does.”
”Rather a dangerous kind of a friend, I should think,”
said Fosd.i.c.k. ”He might have killed you.”