"So I would, willingly, if you had acted decently."
"Gi' me suthin now, and settle it."
"I consider it already settled,—like your land-claim dispute," said Jack. "But no matter; how much do you want? Don't bid too high, you know."
"Gi' me a dollar, anyhow!"
Jack laughed.
"If I should give you enough to pay for the charge in your gun, wouldn't that satisfy you? Though, as you didn't fire it at me, I don't quite see that I ought to defray the expense of it. Good day, Mr. Peakslow."
Jack went to find the chicken that had been shot; and Peakslow vented his rage upon his neighbor across the fence.
"What a pattern of a man you be! stuck-up, struttin',—a turkey-gobbler kind of man, I call ye. Think I'm afraid o' yer gun?"
"I have no answer to make to remarks of that nature," said Lord Betterson, retiring from the fence.
"Hain't, hey?" Peakslow roared after him. "Feel above a common man like me, do ye? Guess I pay my debts. If I set out to build, guess I look out and not bu'st up 'fore I get my paintin' and plasterin' done. Nothin' to say to me, hey?"