“It’s a shame!” cried Joe, running forward to lend her assistance to Little Hickory. “Three to one——”
By this time the blood of Little Hickory was up, as the expression goes, and half a dozen boys like Tom and Jerry could not have availed against him. A smart kick sent Jerry flying a rod away, where he lay cramped with pain, and uttering piteous cries, as Rob bore both Tom and Larry backward to the earth, a hand about the throat of either.
“Oh—oh—oh!” groaned the pair in unison. “You’re—choking—me!”
Now that he had obtained an advantage Little Hickory resolved not to let either up until he had obtained an acknowledgment of submission from both.
Thus he pressed still harder upon them, as he said in his low, determined tone:
“Ye have lost, Larry! I’m too much for all of ye. What are ye going to do about it?”
But Larry remained silent, his stubborn nature not allowing him to yield at once. Again Rob made his demand, in his suppressed excitement falling into the slang of the streets, which he had dropped to a considerable extent since coming to Break o’ Day. His fingers closed harder upon the other’s throat.
Larry made a painful cry, and moved as if he would rise.
“Do ye cave to me, Larry? Nod yer head if ye mean it.”
The eyes flashed, but his head did not move.