“There he goes! That’s the guy.”
Seventeen pairs of eyes made out Sammy Addington scurrying like a colt toward the railroad. Sammy had been avenged. He had “got his man.” Nick Apthorp sprang forward but a new trickle of warm blood stopped him and there arose new wails about being stabbed.
“I’ll kill him,” moaned Nick sinking to his knees while Hank bound up his wound.
“Shut up, you boob,” exclaimed Hank. “It’s only a scratch.”
“He stabbed me,” wailed Nick.
“Stabbed nothin’,” sneered Hank. “He got you with a dornick.”
The clashing bodies had moved apart but no truce had been declared. No one made an attempt to pursue Sammy, who was now on the railroad bridge and still in motion. Connie yet had hopes of preventing another clash and was giving his attention to his captain. Trevor was hurling defiance at Carrots who was pouring forth a volley of profanity.
“That shows ’em up,” broke in Job Wilkes rushing to Carrots’ side. “Look out! They all got knives.”
“It’s a lie!” shouted Alex Conyers whirling toward Wilkes. “We don’t want trouble, but if you got to have it you don’t need to holler.”