surrounded. The latter were not slow to join battle with the same
weapons. Homeric laughter came from the bridge above. The town bridge
was a sort of loafers' club, to which the entrance fee was a screw of
tobacco, and the subscription an occasional remark upon the weather.
Here gathered together day by day that section of the populace which
resented it when they "asked for employment, and only got work
instead". From morn till eve they lounged against the balustrades,
surveying nature, and hoping it would be kind enough to give them some
excitement that day. An occasional dog-fight found in them an eager
audience. No runaway horse ever bored them. A broken-down motor-car was
meat and drink to them. They had an appetite for every spectacle.

When, therefore, the water began to fly from boat to boat, kind-hearted
men fetched their friends from neighbouring public houses and craned
with them over the parapet, observing the sport and commenting thereon.
It was these comments that attracted Mr Dexter's attention. When,
cycling across the bridge, he found the south side of it entirely
congested, and heard raucous voices urging certain unseen "little 'uns"
now to "go it" and anon to "vote for Pedder", his curiosity was
aroused. He dismounted and pushed his way through the crowd until he
got a clear view of what was happening below.

He was just in time to see the most stirring incident of the fight. The
biggest of the Judy boats had been propelled by the current nearer and
nearer to the Dexter Argo. No sooner was it within distance than
Jackson, dropping his oar, grasped the side and pulled it towards him.
The two boats crashed together and rocked violently as the crews rose
from their seats and grappled with one another. A hurricane of laughter
and applause went up from the crowd upon the bridge.