"Yes."
"Well, dis is a quare deal! If yer wanted his head bruck it wouldn't s'prise me; but ter want his arm bruck—jee!"
"I don't care if he gets a rap on the head at the same time, but I don't want him killed. I want his right arm broken, and that is the job I am ready to pay for."
Kelley straightened up somewhat, placed one hand on his hip, while the other rested on the table, crossed his legs, and regarded Ditson steadily with a stare that made Roll very nervous.
"I might 'a' knowed yer didn't want ter fight him yerself," the professor finally said, and Ditson did not fail to detect the contempt in his face and voice.
"No, I do not," declared Ditson, an angry flush coming to his face. "He is a scrapper, and I do not think I am his match in a brutal fight."
"Brutal is good! An' yer wants his arm bruck? Don't propose to give him no show at all, eh?"
"I don't care a continental what is done so long as he is fixed as I ask."
"I s'pose ye're one of them stujent fellers?"
"Yes, I am a student."