He had come
up soaking from Torpoint Ferry, walked straight to the coach, and
pulled the door open to jump inside, when down on his head came
rolling a couple of Dutch cheeses that Mrs. Polwhele had crammed on
the top of her belongings. This raised his temper, and he began to
drag parcel after parcel out and fling them in the mud, shouting that
no passenger had a right to fill up the inside of a coach in that
fashion. Thereupon Jim sent an ostler running to the landlady that
owned the Highflyer, and she told Bligh that he hadn't booked his
seat yet: that the inside was reserved for Mrs. Polwhele: and that he
could either take an outside place and behave himself, or be left
behind to learn manners. For a while he showed fight: but Mr. Sharl
managed to talk sense into him, and the parcels were stowed again and
the door shut but a minute before Mrs. Polwhele came downstairs and
took her seat as innocent as a lamb.
"Pitch a lady's luggage into the road, would you?" struck in Jim the
Guard, making himself heard above the pillaloo. "Carry on as if the
coach belonged to ye, hey? Come down and take your coat off, like a
man, and don't sit there making fool faces at me!"
"My friend is not making faces," began Mr.
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