ying this, the bully pulled out of his pocket a piece
of hard rope, covered from one end to the other with hard knots.
Seizing poor Gregson, who lay on the grass even more hurt than Bouldon,
Blackall dragged him along, and placed him near his friend, and then
flourishing his formidable colt, was about to make it descend first on
the back of one and then on that of the other of his victims, when a
loud shout arrested his arm, and, looking up, he saw from both ends of
the glade a strong body of boys, in military order, advancing towards
him.

"Hold your hand, you big coward. If you dare strike either of those
fellows, well not leave a particle of skin on the flesh of your back,
let me tell you," shouted a voice in a loud tone.

One of the parties was led by Buttar, the other by Bracebridge. The
latter had spoken. Buttar uttered a similar caution; but Blackall,
seeing that only younger boys composed the approaching bands, and
fancying that they would not venture to interfere with him, resolved for
very pride not to desist from his purpose, and down came his weapon on
the backs of the two prostrate victims of his tyranny. It was
equivalent to a declaration of war to the knife.

"On, on, on," shouted Bracebridge and Buttar.

Their followers required no second appeal.

"Remember what I told you," shouted Ernest--"Each man to his duty."

The bully turned round and gazed, first on one side and then on the
other, at the approaching bands. He was observed to turn pale, even
though he flourished his colt above his head, and uttered loud threats
of vengeance against any who might dare to approach him. A scornful
laugh was the only answer he received, as the two bands advancing in
double quick time completely surrounded him, and then with a shout threw
themselves upon him. Some seized his neck, others his arms, and others
his legs, in spite of his kicks and blows, while others passing a rope
round his body he was speedily tripped up and hauled down to the ground.
He swore, and shouted, and threatened more loudly than ever.

"Gag him, gag him," suggested Buttar. "Don't let the fellow talk
blasphemy."

"I'll half murder you some day for this, you Buttar, you," cried the
bully, glaring fiercely at him.

"Pooh, pooh," was all Buttar deigned to reply. "Here, quick, a
handkerchief, and that piece of wood."

The materials for the gag were handed to Buttar, and though the bully
made several attempts to bite his fingers,