“BLACK PETE DID PULL THE TRIGGER EVERY CHANCE HE GOT.”
When the latter had regained his feet, and recovered from the shock a little, he offered no explanation for his defeat, but in his deep humiliation he moved over toward the door to make as dignified an exit as he could in the quickest possible time.
“Hey, where are youse goin’,” Bill called out after him. “Come back here and sit down at this table and let’s be friends, for I never holds a grudge after I have downed me man. Sit down here, I wants to tell youse something.”
Black Pete reluctantly did as Bill requested and the crowd surged round them to hear what it was this boy from down under had to say to him.
“I takes it you’re a bit loaded with licker to-night and perhaps I had the ’vantage of youse for I never lets any of that hootch stuff interfere with me phys-e-que, see? Now you think you’re some scrapper don’t you? Well maybe you are, and I’ll give you a fair chanst. Tomorrer youse keep away from the bug-juice, see? and come ’round in de evenin’ and I’ll spar’ a few rounds with youse—tree rounds ull be about enough—just a friendly bout for the sport it will give these gents here. Marquis Queensbury rules or sluggers rules, I don’t care which. Youse can go now,” and Black Pete promptly sneaked off wishing that an earthquake would open a gulch through Circle and swallow up him, Bill, Jack and everybody else, but it didn’t.
All the next day Black Pete wondered how he could get out of the ‘friendly bout’ that Bill was so willing to pull off for the mere fun of the thing. He didn’t know what the Marquis of Queensbury rules were but he finally came to the conclusion that he was a better man than his opponent and that the only way he could retrieve his standing in Circle was to give the Keed the beating of his life.
Curiously enough he did ‘cut out the booze’ just as though he had paid Bill for the advice and then he proceeded to get into his best fighting trim.
“I knock heem face een eef I ever heet heem,” he said talking to himself, and then to prove to his own satisfaction that he could do it he made four well defined dents in the pine board wall with a smashing blow of his fist.
“An’ you said these folks up here was all of the peace-lovin’ garden variety, and never use a gun,” Bill said soberly when they were in their room after the fracas.