He threw himself on the ground and
grasped Gilbert by the legs, while Peter,
doubling up his fists, made a rush at his enemy.
But Gilbert, swiftly eluding Simon, struck out
with his right arm, and Peter, unprepared for
so forcible a defense, tumbled over on his back,
and Simon ran to his assistance.
Gilbert put himself on guard, expecting a
second attack; but Peter apparently thought
it wiser to fight with his tongue.
"You rascal!" he shrieked, almost foaming
at the mouth; "I'll have you arrested."
"What for?" asked Gilbert, coolly.
"For flying at me like a--a tiger, and trying
to kill me."
Gilbert laughed at this curious version of things.
"I thought it was you who flew at me," he said.
"What business had you to interfere with me?"
"I'll do it again unless you give up firing
stones at the cat."
"I'll do it as long as I like."
"She's gone!" said Simon.
The boys looked up into the tree, and could
see nothing of puss. She had taken the
opportunity, when her assailant was otherwise
occupied, to make good her escape.
"I'm glad of it!" said Gilbert. "Good-
morning, boys! When we meet again, I hope you
will be more creditably employed."
"You don't get off so easy, you loafer," said
Peter, who saw the village constable approaching.
"Here, Mr. Rogers, I want you to arrest
this boy."
Constable Rogers, who was a stout, broad-
shouldered man, nearly six feet in height,
turned from one to the other, and asked:
"What has he done?"
"He knocked me over.
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