off if I said another word.

To this I replied, with a look stronger than all his language, "No,
you won't."

My look must have been strong, because the countenances of the
bystanders were subdued.

"Why won't I, muster?" he asked.

"For two reasons," I said: "first, because you won't try; and
secondly, because you could not if you did."

He was somewhat tamed, and then I lifted my hat, so that he could see
my close-cropped hair, which was as short as his own, only not for the
same reason. "You don't seem to know who I am," I added, hoping he
would now take me for a member of the prize-ring. But my appearance
did not frighten him. I had nothing but my short-cropped hair to rely
on; so in self-defence I had to devise another stratagem. To frighten
him one must look the ruffian in the face, or look the ruffian that
he was. He continued to abuse me as we passed on our way to the
booking-office window, and I have no doubt he and his gang were
determined to rob me. One thing was common between us--we had no
regard for one another. I now assumed as bold a manner as I could and
a rough East End accent. "Look-ee 'ere," said I: "I know you don't
keer for me no more 'an I keers for you. I ain't afraid o' no man, and
I'll tell you what it is: it's your ignorance of who I am that makes
you bold. I know you ain't a bad un with the maulers. Let's have no
more nonsense about it here. I'll fight you on Monday week, say, for
a hundred a side in the Butts, and we'll post the money at Peter
Crawley's next Saturday. What d'ye say to that?"

Peter Crawley, whom I have already mentioned as inviting me to
breakfast, was like a thunderclap to him. I must be somebody if I knew
Peter Crawley, and now he doubtless bethought him of my short hair.

I must confess if the fellow had taken me at my word I should have
been in as great a funk as he was, but he did not. My challenge was
declined.

* * * * *

A curious incident happened once in the rural district of Saffron
Walden. It is a borough no doubt, but it always seemed to me to be too
small for any grown-up thing, and its name sounded more like a little
flower-bed than anything else. On the occasion of which I speak there
was great excitement in the place because they had got a prisoner--an
event which baffled the experience of the oldest inhabitant.

The Recorder was an elderly barrister, full of pomp and dignity; and,
like many of his brother Recorder