“Here he is, Jake,” he yelled. “Hurry up. I’ll hold him an’ ye can tie him. The $20 are our’n.”
“Tom Bowles!” cried Julian.
“Sartin; an’ ye’ll find it out as soon as we get ye fast. Don’t go to bein’ sassy now, ’cause we won’t b’ar it. Tie that ar strap around his arms, Jake.”
“Perhaps Jake isn’t man enough to do it,” replied our hero; and the sequel proved that he was not.
Julian arose to his feet as easily and quickly as though there had been no one there to prevent him, and seizing Tom by the collar, gave him a trip and a push that sent him heels over head down the cliff.
Without waiting to see what had become of him, Julian turned upon Jake, and then began another fight, which, although by no means of so serious a character as the one Julian had had a few minutes before, was quite as furious and determined. Jake was older and larger and stronger than Julian, but by no means as active. He was fighting for the $10 his father’s guest had promised him if our hero was brought back to the cabin a prisoner, and to retain possession of the $80 he carried in his pocket.
He knew that Julian was aware that he had the money about his person, for the very first clutch he made was for Jake’s pocket, in which he felt the box. His fingers closed upon it at once with a tenacity fully equal to that with which our hero had clung to his arm.
“Leave go, consarn ye,” yelled Jake, “or I’ll punch ye!”
“Let go yourself,” replied Julian. “I earned it honestly—it is mine, and I am going to have it if I have to fight you here till daylight.”