I think he was more astonished to be defied than he chose to confess. Anyway he waited for me.
“Now,” said I, “Mister Martin, I’m waiting for you.”
He made a lunge at me, which I dodged, and before he knew where he was I had him on the cheek-bone so suddenly that he slipped and tumbled on the ground.
I was two years older than the day I had fought Tim, poor Tim, on the cliff at Fanad. And to-day I was so uplifted I could have fought an army.
So it was a disappointment when Martin stumbled to his feet and sheered off with a threat of vengeance.
What cared I? Paddy and I had won a race, and my little mistress was safe.
Yet Martin, as will appear presently, was a man of his word.