“That must have been Tiny.”
“Tiny! Tiny who or what?”
“Just Tiny. I believe though that Pierre did refer to him once as Big Tiny. He’s only about seven feet tall and I don’t believe he weighs a pound over four hundred. Oh, he’s a real cunning little fellow; as playful as a kitten. But how in the world did you get away?”
Bob laughed.
“It was the funniest thing while it lasted. You see, he had me by the collar and I turned my head just enough to bring his arm against my mouth. And I bit him. Yes, I did. The way I set my teeth into that arm was a caution. But I was good and mad, and when I get just that mad, well, you know me.”
“I’ll say I do. But go on.”
“Well, he ripped out an oath and drew back his right arm. I felt the blow coming rather than saw it. It was too dark to see. Anyhow I dodged just in time and Pierre, who was right behind me caught it exactly on the end of his nose. Mad? I never saw, or rather heard a man so mad in my life. He jumped for the other fellow and I ducked. Pierre is no slouch when it comes to a rough and tumble and the way they went at it would have made a champion look like a plugged thirty cent piece. I don’t know who won out. I didn’t wait to see. I had business elsewhere.”
“But where was the little guy all this time?”
“I don’t know. Guess he was busy, keeping out of the way.”
“Mebby, but take it from me, he’s some scrapper himself. I thought he was going to choke me to death before I could get his hand away. He may be small but he’s all there what there is of him. By the way, who do you suppose he is? He’s not French nor a half-breed and he talks like an educated man.”