under the necessity of asking you to give me your clothes."
"Give you what?" he cried.
"Your clothes."
"Well, if this don't lick cock-fighting!" said he. "What am I to give you my clothes for?"
"Because I need them."
"And suppose I won't?"
"Be jabers," said I, "I shall have no choice but to take them."
He stood with his hands in the pockets of his great-coat, and a most amused smile upon his square-jawed, clean-shaven face.
"You'll take them, will you?" said he. "You're a very leery cove, by the look of you, but I can tell you that you've got the wrong sow by the ear this time. I know who you are. You're a runaway Frenchy, from the prison yonder, as anyone could tell with half an eye. But you don't know who I am, else you wouldn't try such a plant as that. Why, man, I'm the Bristol Bustler, nine stone champion, and them's my training quarters down yonder."
He stared at me as if this announcement of his would have crushed me to the earth, but I smiled at him in my turn, and looked him up and down, with a twirl of my moustache.
"You may be a very brave man, sir," said I,
