It is something to be a saint, thought Kit, something to be as sure as
that. This old man had built his house upon the Rock indeed.
They watched the stampede, and the Gentleman's vain attempt to stay
it. Their hearts surged to the Parson's battle-cry, and sank to the
Gentleman's thrust, to surge again as Knapp felled his man.
"Knapp'd him a nice un," chuckled the old man, not above a pun at
death's door. "Reglar revellin in it is Knapp, I knaw."
"Our time's coming!" panted Kit. "Stand by, Blob!"
The Gentleman was down, the Gang upon the run. "Now, sir!" cried
Piper. "Now's your chance."
IV
"Now, Blob!--nippy with the table there!"
Out they rushed, and dumped the table down on the left of the door.
"That'll do, sir, thank you," said the old man, trundling out after
them. "That'll cover my flank nicely.... Butter-my-wig!" with kindling
eyes on the battle, "but Mr. Joy's busy."
"Come on, Blob!" yelled Kit.
"Come along, boys!" roared the Parson. "Pretty work forrad, and plenty
for all!"
The Gentleman rose white-faced from his knees.
"A moil a moil" he shouted, waving.
Behind him Kit heard a yell, and the crash and scatter of men storming
down the shingle-bank.
Then silence as they took the grass.
Pages:
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353