church. To avoid them, I went on till I came to the corner of
Dogpole and Pride Hill, hoping thereby to escape. But Cyrus Vetch's
keen eyes had seen me, and when I came to the turning by Colam's,
the vintner's, there were my two tormentors, posted right in my
path.

"Aha, young Bold!" says Cyrus, clutching me roughly by the arm, "so
you thought to give us the slip, did you?"

I could not deny it, and said nothing.

"Hark 'ee, young Bold," Cyrus went on, "you're to bring us tomorrow
morning a good dozen of old Ellery's apples, d'you hear?"

"A good dozen, young Bold," says Cludde, with the precision of an
echo.

"Let me go, please, Vetch," I said, endeavoring to wrench my arm
away.

"Not so fast, bun face," says he, giving my arm a twist. "You'd
best promise, or it will be the worse for you. Now say after me,
'I, Humphrey Bold, adopted brat of John Ellery'--Speak up now!"
"Please let me go, Vetch," said I, wriggling in his grasp.

"You won't, eh? You're an obstinate pig, eh? You defy us, eh?" and
with every question the bully twisted my arm till I almost screamed
with the pain.

"Don't be a ninny," says Cludde. "What's a few apples! Why, old