It was the Moston half-holiday, and farm-lads were strolling about in their best bell-bottomed trousers, in search of more amusement than the little place was capable of providing. Some of them had gathered in the Tavern Square, and were entertaining themselves by roughly baiting Fluffy Jim, the village idiot.
One big rustic, probably about eighteen years of age, though he had the beginnings of a strong beard on his unbarbered chin, was holding Fluffy Jim's head tightly between his legs while the other lads took turns at knocking dust out of the idiot's clothes with the ash-sticks and canes they carried.
"Nah then, yo' chaps, let drive at him," shouted the biggest tyrant. "Iverybody as makes him 'bale oot' scoöars one point, and them chaps 'at he 'shoots' moöast for gets a fat cigar apiece!"
To "bale oot" and to "shoot" meant the same thing in the dialect of the district--the poor half-witted boy was to be made to shout out in pain beneath the succession of strokes, and from this cruel pastime the yokels were obviously deriving coarse amusement. Now, Dick had no reason to feel tenderly disposed towards the village idiot, who had had so much to do with one of the greatest disappointments of his life. Nevertheless his blood boiled as he joined the little crowd of watchers, some of them elderly men, and realized that, far from showing any desire to interfere, they seemed actually to be enjoying the "fun".
Dick had meant going straight into the inn to claim the shelter of the snug little private room which he had booked. His brain was in a whirl, and above everything he craved quietude. His last wish was to be mixed up in a brawl with skylarking farm-hands. The Captain of Foxenby could not really afford the luxury of a "scrap" in the open street.
A very genuine howl of agony from Fluffy Jim settled the matter, however. Dick suddenly appeared in the centre of the laughing rustics, and tapped the leader of them on the shoulder.
"That'll do, you," he said, curtly. "Let Fluffy Jim go. He's had enough knocking about for to-day."
The young horseman gaped, as well he might, for this was an audacious thing that the Foxenby schoolboy had done. The square was thick with the yokel's friends, a united rush by whom would speedily have put the intruder out and under.
