“Why,” said Jim, “I met him when I got back to town and invited him down to the mill with me. I—er—rid myself of Mr. Kowterski in his presence and left him to think it over. Haven’t seen him since.”
“He hain’t got any misgivin’s as to how you stand then, eh? You kind of rubbed his face in it, didn’t you? Leetle bit abrupt, wasn’t you?”
“If there’s going to be a fight,” said Jim, “I want it to be a fight. No sneaking under cover.”
“Call to mind that British general—what’s his name? Bradley—Bradish—some sich thing. Didn’t pay no heed to a young feller named Washington when he was goin’ to fight the Injuns. He come right out bold to fight like you’re aimin’ to do. But did the Injuns? Wa-al, accounts says not. They done consid’able sneaking and prowlin’ under cover, and this general got all chawed up.”
“I didn’t want the man to think I was a fool.”
“Um! Shows you’re young, Jim. Hain’t no better way of gittin’ a strangle holt on to a feller than by lettin’ him think you’re a fool. The s’prise of findin’ out sudden that you hain’t comes nigh to chokin’ him.”
“Anyhow, it’s done,” said Jim.
“No argyin’ that p’int. I notice Moran didn’t leave town this mornin’ like he calc’lated to. What you figgerin’ on next? Looks like you run on to some facts up the River Road.”
“I’m going to look for some more facts.”
“What kind of facts, son?”