"Because I thought you was beat. I say you tricked me."
"And I tell you the match was a fair one from start to finish!"
"Put up your hands!" said the smith, advancing in a threatening manner.
"No," said I, "a bargain is a bargain," and turning my back upon him, I fell to watching the man with the rake, who, not content with Job's word, was busily pacing out the distance for himself.
"Put up your hands!" repeated Black George hoarsely.
"For the last time, no," said I over my shoulder. "Strike me if you will," I went on, seeing him raise his fist, "I shall not defend myself, but I tell you this, Black George, the first blow you strike will brand you coward, and no honest man."
"Coward, is it?" cried he, and, with the word, had seized me in a grip that crushed my flesh, and nigh swung me off my feet; "coward is it?" he repeated.
"Yes," said I, "none but a coward would attack an unresisting man." So, for a full minute we stood thus, staring into each other's eyes, and once again I saw the hairs of his golden beard curl up, and outwards.
What would have been the end I cannot say, but there came upon the stillness the sound of flying footsteps, the crowd was burst asunder, and a girl stood before us, a tall, handsome girl with raven hair, and great, flashing black eyes.
"Oh!—you, Jarge, think shame on yourself—think shame on yourself, Black Jarge. Look!" she cried, pointing a finger at him, "look at the great, strong man—as is a coward!"