"Haven't you seen Paul Bristol?" asked Walk.
"I saw him on the other side of the pond; I never see him close to. But I ain't afear'd on him. I'll bet I can lick him so he won't know whether it's Sunday or Thanksgiving," blustered Tom. "Will your old man give a feller anything now for ketchin' him?" inquired Tom, looking anxiously into the face of Walk.
"He don't make any offers for him now," added the son cautiously. "He don't want to get into any more rows about the fellow."
"Oh, he don't?" muttered Tom, evidently greatly disappointed. "If your old man will only do the handsome thing, I'll scrape this Bristol Brick till there ain't nothin' left on him."
Walk Billcord looked at the ugly customer at his side, and his thirst for vengeance stirred all the bad blood in his veins. He had plenty of spending money, and he could even afford to give ten dollars himself for satisfactory vengeance. Nim Splugger and Kidd Digfield, as rough specimens as the Topover himself, would assist Tom. But Walk's father had just been discharged from confinement, and there was great risk in making the trade suggested.
"You would be prosecuted if you did anything," suggested Walk. "Then it would come out that I had a hand in the business."
"Not a bit on 't!" exclaimed Tom, very positively. "Jest as quick as I git the ten dollars, nobody won't see nothin' more of me within a hund'ed miles of Lake Champlain."
"What do you mean by that, Tom?" asked Walk curiously.
"I'm go'n to run away. My old man is so hard on me that I can't stand it no longer. I'm go'n' to New York to ship in a pirate vessel. I shan't be caught nohow."
"I would give ten dollars quick enough to see Paul tied to a tree and lathered with a cowhide for twenty minutes or half an hour; but I don't make any offers, and I won't hire any fellow to do such a thing," added Walk, as he considered the appalling risk.