“Ef we lived in a decent place, now, we’d hev oysters, beefsteak, ice and sech fur the eyes; but we live in black Arkansaw, and we hain’t any thing but vinegar, salt and mud. Cuss sech a kentry!”
He bustled about the cabin, struck a light, and rapidly procured some vinegar and salt. Then he took a cup of water, and making some mud, formed the three ingredients into a paste, which he clapped on Walter’s eyes.
It aroused him instantly, and smarting from the salve, he staggered to his feet, and looked vacantly about; he had received a terrible blow. Katie affectionately supported him.
“Lie down—lie down!” commanded Jeffries. “D’ye want ter start the blood a-runnin’, an’ make yer eyes like a hearse? Lie down and keep still!”
“Where is he?” inquired Walter, making a faint show of determination. “Where is he?”
“Who?” inquired Jeffries.
“Charles Danforth, father. Oh, he struck poor Walter as hard as he could, right on his poor forehead.”
“What! yer don’t mean to say that girl Danforth knocked him down like a beef! whipped a feller that cleaned out six Pawnees, one after t’other! Wal, I will—that’s good.”
“Oh, father; he wouldn’t have done it if I had not caught him when he was going to strike. I held him, then Danforth struck him.”
“Yer did, eh! yer did; and yer promised to be his wife. Gal, I’m ashamed of yer. It’s foul—it ain’t ’cordin’ to the rules of the ring—wal, wal; and yer claim to be a Jeffries.”