The extraordinary change in the Irishman's manner nearly dumbfounded him.
"Ye know well enough."
"Then you have seen him?" exclaimed the young man. "Oh, I see. He knows a thing or two about you, and----"
"He don't know--hic--nothin',--now," hiccoughed the Irishman. The liquor had muddled his brain.
"What!" gasped Mont, with a sudden sense of horror. "You--you----" he began.
He was standing with his heels against a small rock that overhung the bank.
"Ye can foind out fer--hic--yerself!" snarled Mosey, and with a quick spring he gave the young man a push that sent him spinning over backward. Mont tried to catch hold of the rock, but the smooth surface slipped from under his hands. He grasped the small bushes--they came out by the roots. He felt himself going down--down;--the glint of the sunshine upon the water sparkled in his face and then?
WITH A QUICK SPRING HE GAVE THE YOUNG MAN A PUSH THAT SENT HIM SPINNING OVER BACKWARD.
Mosey got down flat on the rocks and crawling to the edge, peered over the bank. He saw Mont's hat rise to the surface, and float swiftly along with the bounding stream.