“Yes; let ’em settle it,” added one of the bystanders, uttering the sentiments of the spectators; “the fight will be a thing of beauty.”
Others joined in the request, but the man paid no heed. He did not lay his hand on his nephew, but merely said, “Come,” and strode off in the direction of the river. The youth walked reluctantly after him. Looking back at Alden, he paused a moment, shook his fist and said:
“We’ll meet again some day and have it out.”
“That will suit me down to the ground,” replied Alden, emphasizing his words also with a gesture of his fist.
“Gorrynation!” said Jethro, after the stranger was at a distance, “but it was lucky for bofe of you dat dese four men held me back. When I git mad, I’m orful, and if I’d got at you, dere wouldn’t anyting been left ’cept a couple of grease spots.”
This boast caused uproarious laughter. Jethro looked around in the faces of the crowd and asked reprovingly:
“What you all laughing at? What’s de matter wid you, Tony Burke? If yo’ doan’ shet up straight off, I’ll frow you down so hard you’ll make a bulge on toder side de yarth.”
This warning was addressed to a lad about the size of Alden. He was a clerk in a St. Joe grocery store, and known to everybody. His merriment was more boisterous than anybody else’s. The instant the threat was uttered, however, his face became sober. He took a step forward.
“Are you talking to me?” he demanded, and an instant hush fell on the bystanders.
“Yas, I is; doan’ you hyar me? Is you deef? You’s getting too sassy, Tone Burke; you need taking down a peg or two, and I’m de gemman dat am gwine to doot.”