There are hangers-on at almost every groggery, who loaf around, day after day, for the purpose of what, in slang terms, is called "spunging,"—that is, they are either not able or not willing to pay for liquor themselves, and therefore sit waiting to be asked to drink by any customer who comes in and is willing to "stand treat." Of course it is to the interest of such creatures as those to be on good terms with the landlord—for it is only by his tolerance they can so cheaply indulge their bibulous propensities.
There were some of this class present when Morris asked his question, and they, of course, expressed the opinion that Porter, if he only had fair play, would be more than a match for his late antagonist, who, they said, had taken him at a disadvantage.
"I'd bet on Porter every time," said a burly loafer by the name of Tom Flatt, "if he only had a fair show. I'd liked to see him try it, at any rate."
"O you would, would you?" said Morris, in a sarcastic, rasping tone; "I believe that, but you would take care not to get into anything of the kind yourself. I never knew a man who was more careful of his own precious carcase. Now, let me tell you, I believe that fellow would clean you both out so suddenly you would be whipped before you knew it."
"That's so," said Stewart. "Why, he was quick as a streak of forked lightning."
"If I were you, Morris," said Flatt, "I'd shut up. A man who lets his wife lick 'un, and is afeared to go home because she'd pull his hair or broomstick 'un, shouldn't talk to other men about being cowards. I'd like to see my wife touch me."
As he spoke about his wife beating him, he doubled his ponderous fist and assumed a fierce look, which would lead one to conclude he would be a perfect hero under such circumstances.
What enabled Flatt thus to taunt Morris was the fact that one night the latter had come home frenzied with drink, and was very abusive to his wife and children. Indeed, he became almost uncontrollable, and began to smash up the furniture, when his eldest son, with the assistance of his mother, watching his opportunity, had overpowered and bound him. The story in some manner had leaked out, and the present occasion was not the first time he had been twitted about it.
"We know all about thee, Tom," said Tremaine, in answer to Flatt. He lived next door to him, and therefore understood the relation in which he stood to his family better than any one else did. "Thou art brave as a lion when thee's got that little wife of thine to thump, but thee's not so valiant when there are men around."
Morris now stepped forward and said: "Don't say a word, Tremaine.
I want myself to settle this score with Flatt."