“Don’t be an ass,” begged Dud with spirit. “You know plaguey well I couldn’t lick Star. He’s six inches taller than I am, and he’s at least seventeen years old, and he’s—he’s stronger——”
“Son, when you get in a row with another chap,” replied Jimmy emphatically, “don’t you stop to figure out how much bigger or stronger he is. You jump in and get the first lick at him. You’ll be surprised to find what a lot of inches that first whack takes off the other chap! What you should have done——”
“Well, I didn’t,” said Dud shortly. “You wouldn’t have, either, I guess.”
Jimmy grinned. “Never mind what I’d have done, Dud. I’m not making a name for myself. I’m not——”
“Neither am I. You are. And I’m getting sick of it. It’s no use, anyway. Let’s drop it.”
“Drop nothing,” replied Jimmy vigorously. “We’re getting on famously. Why——”
“You’ve just said I’ve queered myself!”
“I said you’d missed a chance to make a hit. So you have. But we can fix that all right. Those fellows who saw it will talk, I guess, but we can talk too. Who were they?”
“I don’t know. Stiles was one, though.”