“It’s right y’ are,” said Deaf Dan. “An’ lately it’s all blanks. Sure, there’s nothin’ do be doin’ in th’ place since the night that Gallagher got back.”
“Sure, that was a fine foight,” said Stumpy.
“They tell me that same,” responded Deaf Dan, “but Gallagher an’—Howly mother o’ Moses, phwat’s that?”
“That” appeared at first to be a procession of two, emerging with great suddenness from the door of the barroom, but, as Deaf Dan and Stumpy rose to get a better view of the proceedings, the two who first appeared were followed by a straggling crowd of others, all eagerly intent on observation, so that presently the entire male population of Brownsville was assembled on the levee, looking with interest to see the outcome of what seemed to be a personal difficulty between two prominent citizens. Last of all to appear was Sam, the bartender, whose appearance on his doorstep was indisputable evidence that there was no one remaining inside.
The leading figure in the procession was Gallagher, and judging from the earnestness with which he was moving, it was easily to be understood that he was desirous of putting as much vacant space as possible between himself and the second advancing figure. He might almost be said to be flying, rather than fleeing. And every ounce of force at his command was devoted to the effort to keep in the lead, so that, although his mouth was open, he emitted no sound.
His pursuer, on the other hand, though he was no less resolute in his endeavour to cover the ground quickly, was devoting a part of his strength to the loud utterance of many words. For the most part, these words savoured of profanity, too enthusiastic to be well chosen, but sufficiently impassioned to be exceedingly impressive. There was no questioning the fact that Long Mike had lost his temper again, and small doubt that he would do bodily harm to his foreman if he should succeed in getting near enough to lay hands upon him.
But Gallagher succeeded, though with great difficulty, in maintaining his position in the van of the advance until he reached the brink of the river. Then, instead of turning, or possibly making a stand, he surprised the onlookers beyond measure by making a flying leap, and disappearing in the muddy flood.
Right here it may be said that no man, with the possible exception of Gallagher or Long Mike himself, was ever able to tell just how it happened that the long-standing difficulty between the two had blazed up in such sudden fury. Opinions differed as to whether Gallagher’s intemperate habits of speech had provoked the outburst or whether Long Mike’s apprehension had been warped by his indulgence in superfluous stimulant. All that was known was that Long Mike had aimed a sudden blow, which the other had dodged, and that the foot-race began forthwith.
When the pursued plunged into the river, the pursuer paused on the brink. For a moment it seemed as if he were only waiting for his victim to appear at the surface before leaping in after him, and Stumpy and two or three others laid detaining hands on him. Almost immediately, however, it appeared that he was not minded to risk himself in the water, although his wrath was by no means assuaged, for, after a few moments, Gallagher, who could swim like a fish, reappeared some twenty yards from shore, and, keeping himself easily afloat, turned to his foe. Thereupon, Long Mike, making no effort to break away from the men who held him, opened his mouth and spoke.
“—— —— —— —— —— ——,” he said. “—— —— —— ——.”