"You tryin' to tell me how to talk? You goody-goody church deacon!"
"You'd better go on home, Ward, and—"
"'Fore Chris'mas I could pay you back! Whiskey sells quick! Good money in it! Why, I'd pay up what's done charged on your store books! Think o' that!"
"I told you no, Ward! I mean it!"
Mister Ward hauled off and hit Papa so quick it knocked him down! He straightened up and gave him back a big wallop!
"This ain't nothing to fight over, Ward!"
"I ain't gonna fight. I'm just gonna knock hell outta you!"
Next minute they were down in the middle of the floor, fighting like all get out, rolling over and over! Both of them jumped up! Down on the floor they sprawled again—but just for a second. Mister Ward leaped behind the heater, but Papa went at him and started banging him to pieces! Mister Ward grabbed Papa's arms and threw him against the wall. His head hit the side of the phone, and he slid to the floor, blood running out of his nose! Mister Ward jumped on Papa! More blood came streaking across his face from a gash by his ear!
I had to do something!
I thought of the time Mama dashed cold water on some fighting dogs to make them quit, so I ran for the water bucket. The thing was slam empty! Then I saw the coal oil drum. I snatched the measuring can off its hook and dipped up all the oil it would hold!