Bart dropped to one knee, grasped the fellow by the neck, and lifted his terrible fist.
“Take them back,” he said, “or I’ll disfigure you for life! I’ll never stop till you swallow those words!”
“I—I will take them back!” faltered the beaten fellow, his nerve failing him at last.
“Confess that you lied!”
“I—I lied; I confess it!”
“That’s all!” said Bart, rising. “But if you ever speak her name again, and I know of it, I’ll give you worse than anything you have received to-night!”
Then he removed his suspenders from about his waist, found his clothes, and began to dress, his manner seeming so cool that the witnesses of the fight wondered. A short time after, Bart sauntered slowly up to the house, as if he had simply been out for a little stroll.
As he mounted the steps to the veranda, some one uttered a little exclamation of pleasure, and came toward him through the shadows. Then Elsie was before him, and her hands were on his arm.
“I’ve been searching for you everywhere, Bart,” she declared. “Where in the world have you been?”