He proceeded to strip off his coat in a very businesslike manner.
“Hold!” commanded Achmet. “You will regret it, you infidel whelp, if you place your vile hands on me!”
“Whoop!” roared the Westerner. “We’ll sure see about that right away! Come on, partner!”
But now the Nubian stalked into the room, apparently ready to take a hand in the encounter, and Achmet called attention to him.
“This man alone,” he declared, “is more than the equal of twenty boys. He once slew a strong man with a single blow of his fist. If you lift a finger against me he will rend you. Be careful!”
In spite of this warning Buckhart would have pitched in; but Dick had better judgment and hastened to restrain his friend.
“The black man is dangerous, Brad,” he said, in a low tone. “Unless we use deadly weapons, he can master us alone. Besides that, we do not wish to kick up an uproar unless forced to do so. Steady, old man!”
“Whoop!” cried Brad. “This business is making me sizzle a heap!”
“It is an outrage, and we’ll enter a complaint.”
“You bet your boots!”