“You’ll be whipped if you do, dad,” said Ben. “If I can’t lick him you can’t.”
“We’ll see,” said the old man, gritting his teeth. “Stranger, I’m goin’ for yer!”
“Wait a minute, sir,” said Brooke quietly. “I don’t mean to fight you.”
“You’re afraid, be you?” sneered the old man.
“You may put it that way if you like, but I’m not going to raise my hand against a man old enough to be my father.”
“I don’t ask no odds on account of my age. You’ll find me young enough for you.”
“Perhaps you are right, for I couldn’t fight with any spirit against you.”
“You’ve only licked Ben. Now you want to crawl off.”
“No; if your other son cares to meet me I’ll have a set-to with him.”