The liquor having been disposed of, Jim lounged leisurely toward his insulter, looked him steadily in the eye for a moment and then said—
“And some people’s manners have not greatly improved since they left Murphy’s. As for my squareness, that’s a matter for argument, but one which you are hardly competent to pass an opinion upon, unless you have changed greatly in the last few years. Now, Mr. Hosking, I’m going to tell you something that may interest you.
“At nine o’clock this morning, I was notified to change my location within twenty-four hours. I propose to get away from town as quietly and pleasantly as possible. Let me inform you, however, that until nine o’clock to-morrow morning, I am a citizen of Jacksonville, and shall stand for my rights and self-respect accordingly.”
“THERE WAS A SHORT, SHARP STRUGGLE, A HARMLESS SHOT, AND JIM’S INSULTER WAS LYING ON THE FLOOR WITH A CLEAN CUT IN HIS CHEST”
Emboldened by Jim’s apparent indisposition to begin a row, and, like all bullies, mistaking conservatism for cowardice, Hosking replied:
“Y’u make a mighty purty speech, mister man, but y’u aint on the squar’ jest the same, an’ I—”
We never knew what Hosking was going to say; his mouth was slapped so quickly that his intentions became a matter for conjecture.
It was impossible to see exactly what happened next—the two men sprang at each other so fiercely. There was a short, sharp struggle, a shot from Hosking’s revolver, that sped harmlessly over the heads of the crowd, lodging in the wall, and Jim, bowie in hand, was bounding toward the open door, leaving his insulter lying upon the floor with a clean cut in his chest through which his life was ebbing away as fast as the escaping blood could carry it!
As Jim ran, some one in the crowd fired a shot after him. Everybody rushed to the door, but he was in the saddle and away, amid a shower of pistol balls, which, much to my relief, apparently flew wide of their mark.