"My dear old soul!" said Archie. "You don't understand!"
"Don't I! I know your sort, you trailing arbutus!"
"No, no! My dear old thing, believe me! I wouldn't dream!"
"Are you going or aren't you?"
Eleven more children joined the ring of spectators. The loafers stared silently, like awakened crocodiles.
"But, I say, listen! I only wanted"
At this point another voice spoke.
"Say!"
The word "Say!" more almost than any word in the American language, is capable of a variety of shades of expression. It can be genial, it can be jovial, it can be appealing. It can also be truculent. The "Say!" which at this juncture smote upon Archie's ear-drum with a suddenness which made him leap in the air was truculent; and the two loafers and twenty-seven children who now formed the audience were well satisfied with the dramatic development of the performance. To their experienced ears the word had the right ring.
Archie spun round. At his elbow stood a long, strongly-built young man in a grey suit
"Well!" said the young man, nastily. And he extended a large, freckled face toward Archie's. It seemed to the latter, as he backed against the wall, that the young man's neck must be composed of india-rubber. It appeared to be growing longer every moment. His face, besides being freckled, was a dull brick-red in colour; his lips curled back in an unpleasant snarl, showing a gold tooth; and beside him, swaying in an ominous sort of
