With a savage exclamation, Wily Bill threw himself forward and lunged with the full force of his right. Carl ducked sideways. The fist missed him, and the impetus of the blow hurled Wily Bill over the guy rope.
Boss Burton, the proprietor of the show, seeing the clash from a distance, was hurrying up to take a part in proceedings. He arrived just in time to collide with the tumbling form of the "barker."
It was with difficulty that Burton retained his footing. The breath was knocked out of him, and as he tottered and gasped he glared at Wily Bill.
"Dere iss Poss Purton," chuckled Carl. "Schust tell him vat you vant und see vat he say."
"What're you roughing things up like this for, Wily?" demanded the showman. "You know very well I don't allow any fighting on the show grounds."
"That Dutchman," answered the "barker," getting his temper a little in hand, "has got a letter belongin' to me. I want it, an' he won't give it up."
"Is that so, Carl?" asked Burton, whirling on the Dutch boy.
"I don'd know vedder or nod it iss so," replied Carl. "I got a ledder, und he say it pelongs by him. Aber he von't say vat iss in der ledder, so how could I know?"
"Isn't the envelope addressed?"
"Dere iss no enfellup."