I replied, “Pete, Key has sent me for you. I want you to go to headquarters.”
“What the —— does Key want with me?”
“I don't know, I'm sure; he only said to bring you.”
“But I haven't had anything to do with them other snoozers you have been a-having trouble with.”
“I don't know anything about that; you can talk to Key as to that. I only know that we are sent for you.”
“Well, you don't think you can take me unless I choose to go? You haint got anybody in that crowd big enough to make it worth while for him to waste his time trying it.”
I replied diffidently that one never knew what—he could do till he tried; that while none of us were very big, we were as willing a lot of little fellows as he ever saw, and if it were all the same to him, we would undertake to waste a little time getting him to headquarters.
The conversation seemed unnecessarily long to “Egypt,” who stood by my side; about a half step in advance. Pete was becoming angrier and more defiant every minute. His followers were crowding up to us, club in hand. Finally Pete thrust his fist in my face, and roared out:
“By —-, I ain't a going with ye, and ye can't take me, you —— —— —— ”
This was “Egypt's” cue. His long left arm uncoupled like the loosening of the weight of a pile-driver. It caught Mr. Donnelly under the chin, fairly lifted him from his feet, and dropped him on his back among his followers. It seemed to me that the predominating expression in his face as he went, over was that of profound wonder as to where that blow could have come from, and why he did not see it in time to dodge or ward it off.