Next thing I knew I heard something rip, and saw Mark squirm and roll away toward the door. He was heavy and fat, but you should have seen how he got to his feet! Then he fairly dived at the door. It banged open, and he went down, rolling over and over on the floor right up to Uncle Hieronymous’s feet.
HE WENT DOWN, ROLLING OVER AND OVER RIGHT UP TO UNCLE HIERONYMOUS’S FEET
Uncle Hieronymous yelled, “Woosh!” frightened-like, and jumped up on his feet.
Mark didn’t wait to get up; he just laid there and hollered as loud as he could.
“Don’t s-s-sell it! Don’t have anything to d-do with ’em. They’re—”
At that Collins, mad as the very dickens, got into the room and started to go for Mark. Uncle didn’t know very clear what was going on, but he did know there was a man looking like he didn’t mean anything friendly to a boy, so what does he do but step spry over Mark and take holt of Collins. I hadn’t any idea uncle was so strong. Why, he put his hands under Collins’s arms and just naturally lifted him up into the air.
“Stiddy! Stiddy, there!” he says, mild-like. “What’s this here, eh? What’s all this rollin’ and plungin’ and rampagin’ around?” He sort of grinned friendly into Collins’s face, still holdin’ him in the air.
By that time Mark was up, and I got into the room, with Jiggins at my heels. I stole a look at Jiggins, and he sure did look queer—he looked beaten.
Mark looked at him too. “You’re beat, Mr. Jiggins,” says he. “You’re b-b-beat.”