I marched forward, tugged on Dr. Mustache's sleeve to get him out of viewing mode and into motion again, and made sure I had a handful of Gus's sweaty tunic as well. I didn't bother looking back as I had before it came to sir blond brother, but I still had the feeling of leaving a whimpering dog in the rain.
The dog in my left hand, however, was growling.
"Could you think of any less insulting things to say about me when I was only trying to help you?" griped Gus.
"Yeah, if they were true. Helping me isn't getting yourself hung for trying to pick a fight with the son of a duke!"
At least Gus had the awareness to look a little stunned, but he still kept his brow wrinkled in indignation.
"I knew he was somewhere high up, but that doesn't give him the right to harass you! And the geezer wasn't doing anything."