This was too
much for Paul's self-restraint. He dropped the shirt and pitched
into Mike in so scientific a manner that the latter was compelled
to retreat, and finally to flee at the top of his speed, not
without having first received several pretty hard blows.
"I don't think he will meddle with me again," said Paul to
himself, as he pulled down the sleeves of his jacket.
He walked back, and looked for the shirt which he had laid down
before commencing the combat. But he looked in vain. Nothing
was to be seen of the shirt or of Mike's companion. Probably
both had disappeared together.
CHAPTER XI
BARCLAY & CO.
The loss of the shirt was very vexatious. It was not so much the
value of it that Paul cared for, although this was a
consideration by no means to be despised by one in his
circumstances; but it had been lent as a pattern, and without it
his mother would be unable to make Mr. Preston's shirts. As to
recovering it, he felt that there was little chance of this.
Besides, it would involve delay, and his mother could not afford
to remain idle. Paul felt decidedly uncomfortable. Again Mike
Donovan had done him an injury, and this time of a more serious
nature than before.
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