wer, with
the spirit of retaliation strong within me now.

"Do you know what it means, my lads? Deal of knocking about."

"We don't care how much, do we, Burr?"

"No," I cried excitedly. "You may knock me down hundreds of times, if
you'll teach me how to knock you down."

"But the gloves will cost about a pound."

"A pound!" said Mercer in dismay. Then a happy thought struck him.

"We shall have to give up buying Magglin's gun for the present," he
whispered to me. Then aloud--

"All right Lom. If we bring you the money, will you buy the gloves?"

"Yes, my lads, I will; and good ones."

"And you will teach us?"

"I'll teach you," said the sergeant, "for the sake of helping to make a
strong man of the son of a brave officer, who died for his country.
There!"

"Hooray!" cried Mercer; "and how much will you charge for the lessons,
Lom? because you must make it a little more, as we shall have to go tick
for a bit, because of paying so much for the gloves."

"How much?" said the sergeant thoughtfully. "Let me see. First and
foremost, your words of honour that you'll never tell a soul I taught
you how to fight, for it might lead to unpleasantness."

"On my honour, I'll never tell!" cried Mercer.

"And on my honour I never will!" I said excitedly.

"Right, then, so far," said Lomax. "Now about those gloves. If I
recollect right, they're eight-and-six a pair, and two pairs are
seventeen shillings."

"And the carriage," said Mercer.

"Stop a bit. I think, being an old soldier, and teaching, the makers'll
take something off for me. I know they'll send 'em down carriage paid,
and Jem Roff'll get 'em for me from the cross when the waggon goes in.
Got your money?"

"I've got half a sovereign," said Mercer.

"I've got seven shillings," I said.

"Hand over then," said the sergeant, and we lightened our purses
tremendously.

"That's right," said Lomax. "Now about the pay for the lessons. I want
that in advance."

"Oh!" we both ejaculated in dismay.

"We can't pay now, Lom," said Mercer, "but we will."

"Yes, you can."

"But how?"

"Give me your fists, both of you, in a hearty soldier's grip, my lads.
That's my pay in advance, and if in less than six months you two don't
give those two bullies a big dressing down, why, I'm a Dutchman."

"Oh, Lom!"

"Oh, thank you!" I cried.

"Thank you, my lads, and God bless you both. Fighting's generally bad,
but it's good sometimes. There, be of