IX
They adjourned to a sheltered spot back of the stump willows and chose a bare space of soft, green turf. At their sides the brook ran splashing over the cool stones.
"Who'll be Dink's second?" said Cheyenne Baxter, the referee.
There was an embarrassed pause.
"Go on, any of you," said Tough McCarty generously.
"I'll be," said the Coffee-colored Angel. "He licked me square."
He stepped over and held out his hand.
"I don't want you—I don't want your hand!" said Dink with a scream. "I don't want any second; I won't have any! I hate you—I hate the whole lot of you!"
Cheyenne Baxter consulted with Tough McCarty and came over.
"Say, Dink," he said kindly, "Tough doesn't want to fight you now; it isn't fair. He'll give you a fight any time you want—when you're fresh."