nfirmed in
what I already had surmised,--his hurt was as temporary as the flat of
a good, trusty, highland broad-sword could make it.

CHAPTER V

Tommy Flynn, The Harlford Bruiser

I hurried down the avenue to where it joined the dusty roadway.

I stood for a few moments in indecision. To my left, down in the
hollow, the way led through the village. To my right, it stretched far
on the level until it narrowed to a grey point piercing a semi-circle
of green; but I knew that miles beyond, at the end of that grey line,
was the busy town of Grangeborough, with its thronging people, its
railways and its steamships. That was the direction for me.

I waved my hand to sleepy little Brammerton and I swung to the right,
for Grangeborough and the sea.

Soon the internal tumult, caused by what I had just gone through, began
to subside, and my spirits rose attune to the glories of the afternoon.

Little I cared what my lot was destined to be--a prince in a palace or
a tramp under a hedge. Although, to say truth, the tramp's existence
held for me the greater fascination.

I was young, my lungs were sound and my heart beat well. I was big and
endowed with greater strength than is allotted the average man.

Glad to be done with pomp, show and convention, my life was now my very
own to plan and make, or to warp and spoil, as fancy, fortune and fate
decreed.

I hankered for the undisturbed quiet of some small village by the sea,
with work enough,--but no more,--to keep body nourished and covered;
with books in plenty and my pipe well filled; with an open door to
welcome the sunshine, the scented breeze, the salted spray from the
ocean and my congenial fellow-man.

But, if I should be led in the paths of grubbing men, 'mid bustle,
strife and quarrel, where the strong and the crafty alone survived,
where the weaklings were thrust aside, I was ready and willing to take
my place, to take my chance, to pit brawn against brawn, brain against
brain, to strike blow for blow, to fail or to succeed, to live or die,
as the gods might decree.

As I filled my lungs, I felt as if I had relieved myself of some great
burden in cutting myself adrift from Brammerton,--dear old spot as it
was. And I whistled and hummed as I trudged along, trying to reach the
point of grey at the rim of the semi-circle of green. On, on I went,
on my seemingly unending endeavour. But I knew that ultimately the
road would end, although merely to o