"I'll tache you to insult a gintleman."
"Form a ring, boys!" exclaimed the Kentuck-ian. "We'll see there's
fair play."
"One thing first," said Dewey, holding up his hand. "If I come off
best in this encounter, you'll all agree to let this Chinaman go
free? Is that agreed?"
"Yes, yes, it is agreed!"
Ki Sing stood trembling with fear while these preliminaries were
being settled. He would have escaped from the crowd, but his first
movement was checked.
"No, Cy King, we can't let you go jest yet," said Taylor. "We're
goin' to see this thing through first."
O'Reilly was not in the least daunted by the contest in which he was
to engage. Indeed, he felt a good deal of satisfaction at the
prospect of being engaged in a scrimmage. Of course, he expected to
come off a victor. He was a considerably larger man than Richard
Dewey, with arms like flails and flats like sledge-hammers, and he
had no sort of doubt that he could settle his smaller antagonist in
less than five minutes.
But there was one thing of which he was not aware. Though slender,
Dewey had trained and hardened his muscles by exercise in a
gymnasium, and, moreover, he had taken a course of lessons in the
manly art of self-defense.
Pages:
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178