Brownsmith's Boy Part 37

"Just you make half a sound, and--"

He put his lips close to my ear as he said this, and closed the great clasp-knife with a sharp click which made me start; while his eyes seemed to fascinate me as he bent down and glared at me.

It was only for a moment, though, and then I managed to slip my face aside and shouted aloud:

"Ike!"

There was a rush and a scuffle outside, and the woman said in an ill-used tone:

"I told yer how it would be."

"You hold--"

He did not finish, for just then one of the men outside growled--plainly heard through the thin door:

"Now, then, where are yer shovin' to?"

"In here," roared a voice that sent a thrill of joy through me.

"Now, then, what d'yer want?" cried the big fellow, thrusting me behind him as Ike kicked open the door and strode into the room.

"What do I want?" he roared. "I want him and our cart-rope. Now, then, where is it?"

There was a fierce muttering among the men, and they drew together while the boy and the woman cowered into one corner of the attic.

"Oh! you're not going to scare me," cried Ike fiercely. "There's the police just at hand if I wants help. Now then, where's that rope?"

"What rope?" growled the ruffian. "I don't know about no ropes."

"They threw it out of the window, Ike," I cried.

"That's a lie," snarled the man. "There ain't never been no ropes here."

"There has been one," I cried, feeling bold now; "but they threw it out of the window."

"Well, of all--" began one of the men, who had crossed the room with his companion to the big ruffian's side.

"You go on down, my lad," whispered Ike in a low deep voice. "Go on, now."

"But are you coming?" I whispered back.

"You may depend on that," he said, as if to himself, "if they'll let me.

Go on."

I moved towards the open door, when one of the men made a dash to stop me; but Ike threw put one leg, and he fell sprawling. At the same moment my enemy made a rush at Ike, who stepped back, and then I saw his great fist fly out straight. There was a dull, heavy sound, and the big ruffian stopped short, reeled, and then dropped down upon his hands and knees.

"Quick, boy, quick! You go first," whispered Ike, as I stopped as if paralysed; "I'll foller."

His words roused me, and I ran out of the room.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

WHAT BECAME OF THE ROPE.

I nearly fell headlong down as I reached the stairs, for my foot went through a hole in the boards, but I recovered myself and began to run down as fast as I dared, on account of the rickety state of the steps, while Ike came clumping down after me, and we could hear the big ruffian's voice saying something loudly as we hurried from flight to flight.

There were knots of women on the different landings and at the bottom of the stairs, and they were all talking excitedly; but only to cease and look curiously at us as we went by.

There was quite a crowd, too, of men, women, and children in the court below as we left the doorway; but Ike's bold manner and the decided way in which he strode out with me, looking sharply from one to the other, put a stop to all opposition, even if it had been intended.

There were plenty of scowling, menacing looks, and there was a little hooting from the men, but they gave way, and in another minute we were out of the court and in the dirty street, with a troop of children following us and the people on either side looking on.

"But, Ike," I said in a despairing tone, "we haven't got the rope after all."

"No," he said; "but I've got you out o' that place safe, and I haven't got much hurt myself, and that's saying a deal. Talk about savages and wild beasts abroad! why, they're nothing."

"I didn't see any policemen, Ike," I said, as I thought of their power.

"More didn't I," he replied with a grim smile. "They don't care much about going down these sort o' places; no more don't I. We're well out of that job, my lad. You didn't ought to have gone."

"But that boy was running off with the best cart rope, Ike," I said despondently, "and I was trying to get it back, and now it's gone. What will Mr Brownsmith say?"

"Old Brownsmith won't say never a word," said Ike, as we trudged on along a more respectable street.

"Oh, but he will," I cried. "He is so particular about the ropes."

"So he be, my lad. Here, let's brush you down; you're a bit dirty."

"But he will," I said, as I submitted to the operation.

"Not he," said Ike. "Them police is in the right of it. I'm all of a s.h.i.+ver, now that bit of a burst's over;" and he wiped his brow.

"You are, Ike?" I said wonderingly.

"To be sure I am, my lad. I was all right there, and ready to fight; but now it's over and we're well out of it, I feel just as I did when the cart tipped up and all the baskets come down atop of you."

"I am glad you feel like that," I said.

"Why?" he cried sharply.

"Because it makes me feel that I was not such a terrible coward after all."

"But you were," he said, giving me a curious look. "Oh, yes: about as big a coward as ever I see."

I did not understand why I was so very great a coward, but he did not explain, and I trudged on by him.