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No. 18.

ALF GAVE HIS ASSAILANT A BLOW, WHICH SENT HIM REELING.

“Give over, I tell you,” said the policeman. “You are causing an obstruction, and I shall have to take you into custody.”

“He’s not doing any harm, Mr. Policeman,” said one of his pals; “he’s only doing it for a wager—​let him alone.”

“Don’t mind what the bobby says,” called out a voice from the crowd; “he daren’t do anything. A gentleman has a right to amuse himself after his own fashion.”

The constable stooped down, caught the offending party round the shoulders, and lifted him on his legs.

“Now, you make the best of your way home. If you don’t it will be all the worse for you.”

“I’m a gentleman, and shall do as I like, you impudent fellow,” cried the young man in the tourist suit. “Don’t you lay hands on me.”

He was not particularly sober, but he knew what he was about—​but he was larkish—​determined upon having what he called a spree, and appeared to be mischievously disposed.

The policeman was resolute, and told him if he endeavoured to repeat the offence he would lock him up.