'Look-a-hyar, boys'—he began; then, 'Jer'miah,' he broke off abruptly, as the hopeful scion peered shyly out of the store door, 'clar out'n the way, sonny; they hev got shootin'-irons, an' some o' em mought go off.'
He himself stepped prudently back. The man on the stump, however, forgot danger in his excitement. He sat and watched the scene with an eager relish which might suggest that a love of bull-fights is not a cultivated taste.
'Be them men a-wraistlin'?' called out a woman, appearing in the doorway of a neighbouring house.
''Pears like it ter me,' he said dryly.
The strength of despair had served to make the younger man the blacksmith's equal, and the contest might have terminated differently had Rick Tyler not stumbled on a ledge. He was forced to his knees, then full upon the ground, his antagonist's grasp upon his throat. The blacksmith roared out for help; the man on the stump slowly responded, and the storekeeper languidly came and overlooked the operation, as the young fellow was disarmed and securely bound, hand and foot.
'Waal, now, Gid Fletcher, ye hev got him,' said Nathan Hoodendin. 'What d'ye want with him?'
The blacksmith had risen, panting, with wild eyes, his veins standing out in thick cords, perspiring from every pore, and in a bounding fury.
'What do I want with him? I want ter put his head on my anvil thar, an' beat the foolishness out'n it with my hammer. I want ter kick him off'n this hyar bluff down ter the forge fires o' hell. That air what I want. An' the State o' Tennessee ain't wantin' much differ.'
'Gid Fletcher,' said the man who had been sitting on the stump—he spoke in an accusing voice—'ye ain't keerin' nuthin' fur the law o' the land, nor the peace o' Big Smoky, nuther. It air jes' that two hundred dollars blood-money ye air cottonin' ter, an' ye knows it.'
The love of money, the root of evil, is so rare in the mountains that the blacksmith stood as before a deep reproof. Then, with a moral hardihood that matched his physical prowess, he asked, 'An' what ef I be?'