Tom was exasperated and seized a chair, but was prevented from striking him by those present.
Muswink continued: Look Tom, I will show you what a pretty face the old man made when I jerked his scalp off. (Here Muswink made hideous grimaces.) Wan’t that a pretty face for an old man to make. I wonder if his son can beat it.
Scoundrel, exclaimed Tom, raising a chair.
Stop, said Gumaer. No blood shed here.
Let him come, said Muswink. I can pull off his shirt as easily as I did his father’s sleeve buttons. Tom, do you know these buttons? (Showing them.) Do you know that I tore them from his shirt the same time I did the scalp from his head.
Tom could control his feelings no longer and sprang for a gun that was hanging over the fire-place, cocked it and presented it at the breast of Muswink, exclaiming, March!
March, where? said the frightened Indian. This was the first that he had realized his danger. He read his doom in Tom’s countenance.
March! Tom repeated for the second time. Muswink leaves the house closely followed by Tom with the gun at his shoulder ready to shoot in case his victim attempted to escape. Tom drove him down the road that leads from Cuddebackville to Carpenter’s Point. There in a thick cluster of pines Muswink turns toward Tom and said: Tom, would you shoot me?
Yes, replied Tom, you shot my father.
But, Tom, the war is over and peace is declared.