“‘Who the devil are you talking to,’ says I, ‘me, or the hired man? I want you to understand I’m running this thing, pardner!’
“‘Little chance anybody has to forget it,’ he says with a big jarring laugh. Don’t you know that dirty, sneering laugh he had?
“Well, I was some warm. First off, I thought I would walk away and not make any trouble; then I thought to myself, ‘Here, I fought Jack Dempsey sixteen rounds the last time I appeared in the ring, and I reckon I’m not going to let any big swaggering stiff of a Dutchman get away with any such a crack as that!’ Those fellers didn’t know about my being a profesh. I changed my name when I quit, after Dempsey licked me, and I never was much of a hand to talk.
“So without any words, I drove a right-hander into Mr. Falk’s Adam’s apple. You’ll hear this and that place spoken of as a tender spot, but when you want to settle a man quick and thorough, jam him in the Adam’s apple. Falk must have weighed a hundred pounds more than I did, but he went down like a load of bricks. I wasn’t taking any chances with such odds in weight against me. To be sure, I had the science, but the only science I ever saw that was worth a cuss in a street fight is to hit the other man early and often, and with all the enthusiasm you can bring to bear. Falk laid on his back, very thoughtful, wondering where he was going to get his next breath of air from. A crack in the Adam’s apple does a good many things at the same time: It stops your wind; gives you a pain in the head; a ringing in your ears; a cramp in the stomach, and a looseness in the joints, all at once. I realized that Mr. Falk wouldn’t be in condition to do business for some time, and as I was right in the spirit of the thing, now that I’d got started, I thought I might as well head Burke up, too.
“I cut him on the end of his Irish nose, and stood it up in the air like the stack of an old wood-burner. Then I whaled him in the butt of the jaw for keeps.
“He fell all over Solomon, and down they went together.
“‘Don’d you mindt me, Mr. Berkints,’ says old Sol, as he scrambled after his hat; ‘Id’s all righd. Dot’s for der zusbenders; gif him a vew vor der gollar-puttons.’ He was a funny motzer, that Solomon. It broke me up so the fight all went out of me. But I up-ended Burke and gave him a medicine talk.
“I’ve been too easy with you fellers, and I see it,’ says I. ‘From this on, however, there won’t be any complaint on that score. You’ll feel like a lost heathen god in the wilderness, if you try any more playing horse with me; I think that blasted stubborn Dutchman is beyond reason—perhaps I’ll have to really hurt him yet—but I think there’s reason in you, and you’d better use it, unless you want me to spread you all over the fair face of nature.’
“You see, the citizens of the town had been liberal in coming through for the ball team, and naturally they took the greatest pride in it. We were like soldiers going out to fight. Every time we went away from home to play, the town saw us off with the band, and welcomed us back with the same—winner or loser. Now, I was the manager, and of course, everybody looked to me to see that things were run right; consequently, when fellers cut up like Burke and Falk, it wasn’t to be stood.
“Well, Burke said he’d give the matter his careful consideration.