“You won’t fight?”
“No.”
“You’re a coward,” declared Pete.
Velvet Pants shrugged his shoulders.
“Not know hand-fights,” he said.
Pete slapped him across the face with his open hand.
“Now will you fight?”
“Not know hand-fights,” said the man, drawing away. Pete, contempt on his face, gave him a push into the night. They heard the sound of feet on the path; Velvet Pants was running.
“Not know hand-fights,” Pete mimicked. “Did you ever in your life see such a rat?”
Next day excitement swept Crosby Corners. Defender Monarch had gone crazy, and when that news spread, they forgot all about the conduct of Velvet Pants on the night before. As for him, he went about his work with a puzzled and hurt look on his brown face; he seemed still uncertain why the others did not respond to his smiles and attempts at friendliness.