"'This little pig went to market,'" he began, and abruptly became serious. "Is that a challenge?"
"Yes," said Gay. "I fling down my gauntlet."
"And I," said Pritchard, "step forward and, in the face of all the world, lift it from the ground—and proclaim for all the world to hear that there is nobody like my lady—and that I am so prepared to prove at any place or time—come weal, come woe. Let the heavens fall!"
"If you know me from the others," Gay's eyes gleamed, "you will be the first strange young man that ever did, and I shall assign and appoint in the inmost shrines of memory a most special niche for you."
Pritchard bowed very humbly.
"That will not be necessary," he said. "If I land the three-pounder. In that case, I should be always with you."
"I wish," said Gay, "that you wouldn't refer so earnestly to a piece of nonsense. Upon repetition, a joke ceases to be a joke."
Pritchard looked troubled.
"I'm sorry," he said simply. "If it is the custom of the country to bet and then crawl, so be it. In Rome, I hasten to do as the Romans do. But I thought our bet was honorable and above-board. It seems it was just an—an Indian bet."
Gay flushed angrily.