Black, White and Gray Part 12

"Mi-auw," said the kitten piteously.

"Give yer five marbles for it, Bill!"

"Give yer tuppence."

"Give yer a lump of hardbake."

One after another the shrill voices sounded above the general noise and clatter, but Bill shook his head.

"Not near enough," he said; "and come to think of it, I shall keep it myself, and have some sport with it. We'll have a cat-chase, sure's my name's Bill."

As he spoke, another boy joined the group. He was much smaller than Bill, slight and thin, with a brown face and very twinkling dark eyes.

His clothes were poor, and there was more than one hole in the ragged jacket b.u.t.toned tightly round him.

"I'll give yer my knife for't, Bill," he said quickly.

This was a good offer. Bill hesitated; but casting a glance at the boy's dark eager face, he exclaimed:

"Ah, it's you, is it, Dan Tuvvy; then don't you wish you may get it?

I'll just keep it myself."

"'Tain't yourn," said Dan shrilly.

"'Tain't yourn, anyhow," said Bill, with a glare in his green eyes.

The small boy's features worked with excitement. "I'll fight yer for it, then," he said, doubling his fists, and at this there was a loud laugh from the others, for he was about half Bill's size.

"Go it, Tuvvy," cried one, patting him on the back; "go in and win."

"I ain't a-goin' to fight a little chap like you," said Bill, moving off sullenly with the kitten under his arm. "So don't you think it."

"You give me the cat, then," said Dan, following him. "'Ere's my knife, with three blades, and on'y one broke."

"Git out with yer," said Bill contemptuously. "I tell yer I'm a-goin'

to have a cat-chase with this 'ere kitten. So no more bother about it."

"You're afraid," snarled Dan, running along by his side. "I wouldn't be a big chap like you, and be afraid--that I wouldn't."

"Take that, then," said Bill, turning suddenly, "if you _will_ have it;"

and he gave the small boy a blow which struck him to the ground.

In a moment he was up again, quite undaunted.

"Come on, then," he cried, doubling his fists and dancing round his enemy, "if you _aren't_ afraid."

"A fight! a fight!" sounded from all sides; and there seemed no doubt of it, for Bill's temper was roused.

"Ketch 'old for a minnit," he said, holding out the kitten, for which a dozen grimy hands were outstretched; "'twon't take long--"

So all the boys thought. It would be short but exciting, for the two were old enemies, and likely to fight with spirit. They placed themselves in a ring, with hoa.r.s.e shouts of encouragement and approval, and the fight began; the kitten adding its plaintive mew from time to time to the general noise.

At first it seemed that one blow from Bill's heavy hand would be enough to finish the affair; but it was soon evident that Dan's lean figure and nimble movements were greatly to his advantage. He sprang about in such a swift and agile manner, that he seemed everywhere at once; and while Bill was turning to deal a blow, or to catch hold of him, he had ducked his small black head and escaped. b.u.t.toned tightly in his narrow jacket, which he had not taken off, his straight thin figure offered nothing for the hand to grasp, so that it was like trying to lay hold of a wriggling, slippery eel. It was certainly a much better fight than could have been expected from the unequal size of the rivals, and Bill's face grew a deep red, as much with rage as with his vain efforts to close with Dan, who skipped round him breathless but full of spirit.

Suddenly, however, while the excitement was at its height, there came a cry of alarm from the onlookers, "The bobby! the bobby!"

A blue uniform turned the corner. The crowd split up, and vanished like magic as the policeman came towards them. Bill turned away sulkily, and Dan seizing the kitten, which had been dropped on the ground, ran off at the top of his speed.

Without turning his head, to see if his enemy was in pursuit, he sped down the street past the school-house, clasping the kitten to his breast. Soon he had left the shops and busy part of the town behind him, and reached the outskirts, where the houses were poor and mean, and there were ragged people standing about on the door-steps. He gave a quick glance over his shoulder now, and seeing no sign of Bill or the policeman, slackened his pace, loosened the tight pressure of his hand on the kitten, and stroked it gently.

"Poor little kit," he said, "nice little kit. How pleased Becky'll be with it."

It was hard to say whether Dan or the kitten was most exhausted by all they had been through. His fight, his rapid run, and the excitement of the whole affair had made him so breathless, that he was glad to lean against a lamp-post and pant. As for the grey kitten, it lay almost lifeless on his breast, its eyes closed, its little body quite limp, and its heart beating so faintly that it could hardly be felt. The boy looked down at it with pity.

"Looks pretty bad," he murmured; "they've mauled it about so. P'r'aps a drop of milk would set it up."

Urged by this thought, he made an effort to go on again at a slower pace, still panting a good deal, and presently reached a row of small cottages, one of which he entered. A child's voice from a dark corner of the poorly-furnished kitchen cried, as he opened the door, "Mother, it ain't father; it's Dan;" and a woman, who was bending over a pot on the fire, turned towards him.

"Well," she said fretfully, "what makes _you_ so late? It's bad enough to have your father coming in at all hours and wanting his supper."

Dan made no answer, but hurried up to the corner from which the child's voice had sounded. "See here, Becky," he said softly; "see what I've brought you!"

The child, a girl of about eight years old, raised herself eagerly on the hard couch on which she was lying. She was very like Dan, with the same brown skin and dark eyes, but the eyes had no merry twinkle in them. Her face was thin and drawn, and had the appealing look which comes of suffering borne with patience.

"Is it a rabbit, Dan?" she asked, peering at the soft furry thing in her brother's arms.

"It's a little cat," said Dan, putting the kitten gently down by her side, "as Bill was going to ill-treat."

Becky touched the kitten with her thin fingers. "Its eyes is shut," she said. "Oh Dan, I'm feared it's dead."

The woman had now drawn near to look at the kitten too. She had a fair skin and very pale blue eyes, which were always wide open, as though she were surprised at something; when this expression changed, it became a fretful one, which had also got into the tone of her voice.

"Give us a drop o' milk, mother," said Dan; "that'll do it good."

"Milk indeed!" said Mrs Tuvvy; "and what next? Where's the money to come from to buy milk for cats, when goodness knows if we shall soon have bit or drop to put into our own mouths?"

Neither of the children took any notice of their mother's remarks, or answered the questions which she continued to put.

"How do you suppose we're going to live, now yer father's got turned off? Who's a-goin' to pay the doctor's bill, I should like to know?"

Dan rose and fetched from the table a small basin covered with a saucer.

"That's yer supper," said Mrs Tuvvy mournfully. "You ain't never goin'

to give it to the cat! Well, you won't get no more."

Dan knelt by the couch, and tried to put a little warm milk into the kitten's mouth with the spoon, but its teeth were firmly shut.

"You open its mouth, Dan, and I'll feed it," said Becky eagerly.

"There, it swallowed that--now some more. See; it's better already."

For the kitten had opened its eyes, and given itself a little stretch.