CARL ARRIVES IN MILFORD.
The tramp stopped short, and eyed Carl’s small defender, first with curious surprise, and then with derision.
“Out of my way, you midget!” he cried, “or ‘ll hurt you.”
“Try it!” said the little man, showing no sign of fear.
“Why, you’re no bigger than a kid. I can upset you with one finger.”
He advanced contemptuously, and laid his hand on the shoulder of the dwarf. In an instant Jennings had swung his flail-like arms, and before the tramp understood what was happening he was lying flat on his back, as much to Carl’s amazement as his own.
He leaped to his feet with an execration, and advanced again to the attack. To be upset by such a pigmy was the height of mortification.
“I’m going to crush you, you mannikin!” he threatened.
Jennings put himself on guard. Like many small men, he was very powerful, as his broad shoulders and sinewy arms would have made evident to a teacher of gymnastics. He clearly understood that this opponent was in deadly earnest, and he put out all the strength which he possessed. The result was that his large-framed antagonist went down once more, striking his head with a force that nearly stunned him.
It so happened that at this juncture reinforcements arrived. A sheriff and his deputy drove up in an open buggy, and, on witnessing the encounter, halted their carriage and sprang to the ground.