THE BADGER 67 



quickly they reach the spot, where they see a confused 

 mass of living matter, turning and twisting, growling, 

 whining and snapping, at their feet. 



' I'll murder ye, you old varmint ! Look out, 

 Jim ! Cuss an' hang him ! I can't git a stroke at 



him ! Why the here they are ; what's up now ? 



Ginger ! Ginger ! loose him ! Ginger ! he'll rip ye up 

 in bits. Let me smash him ! ' 



' Here he is ; hold hard, master ! ye nearly had 

 'im; hold hard!' 



* Well, if ever I take my tarriers ! Oh dear ! oh 

 dear ! if there ain't Nipper ; he's done for. Hold 

 him, Jim ; don't ye let him out o' yer arms, fur mercy 

 sake. Now then, here they are ; now fur it, one way 

 or t'other. This is the wust night's work as ever I 

 come across. Jim ! Jim ! where be ye?' 



' In this 'ere tangle ; I'm comin' fast as I can.' 



* Have ye got Nipper ? ' 

 ' Yes, I got un.' 



' He's a dunner, ain't he ? ' 



' No, he ain't ; it's tight work fur me to hold him ! ' 

 ' Don't ye let him go ; here they be, dead as 

 herrin's ! Oh dear, Ginger ! if I ain't wound up 

 clean ! Never agin will I see your feller. If it 

 waunt fur the shame on it, I could fairly beller ! I 

 be cut up, an' no mistake.' 



F 2 



