“I can fight, if necessary,” panted Benton. “I discharged two men last week because they left work to attend a ball game against my orders. One of them was a dago, and he came back, drunk, to cut me up. I took his knife away from him and threw him out. I can fight, and I’m not afraid of a coward who hides behind a fake name.”
“Even if you whipped him, you’d stand a good chance of putting yourself in Dutch with the girl, who surely would be mortified by the notoriety the affair would bring. Have some sense; wait a bit, King, and cool off. With a clear head, you’ll see that there are other and far better ways of fixing the man.”
CHAPTER XXXIV
GIVEN THE LIE
The calmness of the speaker had its effect on the trembling young fellow, who stood there, hands clenched, breast heaving, slowly beginning to realize that it was his duty to do nothing that would humiliate the girl and involve her in the speculations of scandal-loving tongues.
“Let me out now,” he said, after a few moments, “and I’ll meet Hazelton as he is coming back. Miss Harting’s name shall not be mentioned.”
“That’s a bit more reasonable, but further thought ought to convince you that there’s nothing but folly in getting into a fist fight with him, in which you are sure to come off second best. Why give him the satisfaction of whipping you? You know it’s more than an even gamble that he would.”
Hutchinson looked sharply at King.
“Now, listen to me. You say the girl hates a liar, and he has sworn in her presence that he is not Hazelton,” said the manager. “If you prove to her that he lied, isn’t it likely she’ll drop him like a hot flatiron? In that way, you’ll protect her, all right, and you’ll put the blade into him, after which any comparison on her part between you and the man who tried to deceive her will be decidedly to your advantage.”
“Yes,” admitted King, “perhaps so, but to think of him trying to carry this thing through in such a brazen—”