It was certainly a weird sight. I suppose I should have wrung
my hands and had hysterics, but as a matter of fact I was almost
amused, it was so silly. Thank goodness the road was deserted.
Andrew was a foot taller than the Professor, but awkward,
loosely knit, and unmuscular, while the little Redbeard was
wiry as a cat. Also Andrew was so furious that he was quite
beside himself, and Mifflin was in the cold anger that always
wins. Andrew landed a couple of flailing blows on the other
man's chest and shoulders, but in thirty seconds he got
another punch on the chin followed by one on the nose that
tumbled him over backward.
Andrew sat in the road fishing for a handkerchief, and Mifflin
stood glaring at him, but looking very ill at ease. Neither
of them said a word. Bock broke away from me and capered and
danced about Mifflin's feet as if it were all a game. It was
an extraordinary scene.
Andrew got up, mopping his bleeding nose.
"Upon my soul," he said, "I almost respect you for that punch.
But by Jove I'll have the law on you for kidnapping my sister.
You're a fine kind of a pirate."
Mifflin said nothing.
"Don't be a fool, Andrew" I said. "Can't you see that I want
a little adventure of my own? Go home and bake six thousand
loaves of bread, and by the time they're done I'll be back
again.
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