“And now, fair play,” said Friend Forest. “Keep cool, Hugh, and watch his eyes.”
I felt glad that he was on my side, and we fell to with no more words. I was no match for the practised fists of my antagonist; but I was the stronger, and I kept my wits better than might have been expected. At last I got his head under my arm with a grip on his gullet, and so mauled him with my right fist that Friend Forest pulled me away, and my man staggered back, bloody, and white too, while I was held like a dog in leash.
“He hath enough, I think. Ask him.”
I cried out, “No! Damn him!” It was my first oath.
“Hush!” cried Forest. “No profane language.”
“I will not speak to him,” said I, “and—and—he is a beast of the pit.” Now this fine statement I had come upon in a book of Mr. William Penn’s my father owned, wherein the governor had denounced one Mr. Muggleton.
Friend Forest laughed merrily. “Thou hast thy standing, lad.” For Alloway walked sullenly away, not man enough to take more or to confess defeat. Jack, who was still white, said:
“It is my turn now, and which shall it be?”
“Shade of Fox!” cried Friend Forest. “The war is over. Come, boys, I must see you well out of this.” And so reassuring us, he went down Fourth street, and to my home.
My father was in the sitting-room, taking his long-stemmed reed pipe at his ease. He rose as we followed Friend Forest into the room.