“Smash away!” retorted Walter.
Though he was barely five feet six inches in height, while the tramp was fully six feet, his muscles had been toughened by exercise in the college gymnasium and by rowing in the college crew, and he was wonderfully quick in his motions.
Feeling that the time for forbearance was over, and irritated beyond measure by Walter's audacity, the tramp prepared to carry out his threat. He raised the chair and with a downward sweep aimed at Walter's head.
Had the blow taken effect, this story would never have been written. But Walter's quick eye foresaw the movement, and, springing aside, he dodged the blow and brought down the poker on the muscular part of the giant's arm with what force he could command. There was a howl of pain, and the tramp's arm hung limp and lifeless at his side, while with the other he clasped it in evident suffering.
“You murderous young villain!” he shrieked. “I'll kill you for that!”
Walter felt that he was in a dangerous position.
“Leave the room, please!” he said to Mrs. Gregory. “You will be in my way.” She obeyed, for her champion had shown himself worthy to command, and Walter sprang to the other side of the table, placing it between him and his foe.
By this time the tramp had got ready for an attack. He dashed round the table after Walter, and finally succeeded, in spite of the boy's activity, in grasping him by the shoulder.
“Ah!” he said, with a deep sigh of content, “I've got you now. I'll pay you for that blow!”
Walter felt that he had never been in such a tight place before.