CHAPTER VII.
THE EVENING ENTERTAINMENT.
Nathan Tarbox was not a liberal man. Indeed he had the reputation of being very close-fisted and mean. Never had he been known to invite a friend to a place of amusement, never had he been willing to incur the expense of a dime for another. Yet here he had paid fifty cents for a ticket of admission to the circus, and presented it to the constable. We know, however, why he did this. He saw no other way of compassing his revenge upon the giant who had so grievously offended him, and revenge even outweighed money in his eyes.
Well, it had turned out a failure. In spite of the cowardice of Spriggins something might have been accomplished, and at all events the Norwegian might have been put in the attitude of a man defying the law, which would have made the eventual penalty greater. But there had been a ridiculous error in the warrant—an error for which he was compelled to admit that he himself was responsible. Thus he was balked of his vengeance, for the time being at least, and he was a dollar out of pocket. That Spriggins should deliberately disobey him and stay to see the show was aggravating. He would rather have thrown the money away.
"Goin' to stay and see the show!" repeated Tarbox, angrily. "You can't do it, Spriggins."
"Why can't I?"
"I didn't buy you the ticket for no such purpose."
"Can't help that, Mr. Tarbox. I should be a fool to leave the show, now I'm in, and my ticket paid for."
"Then, Mr. Spriggins, I shall expect you to repay me the fifty cents I spent for your ticket."
"You must excuse me, Mr. Tarbox; you paid me in. I didn't ask you to, but now I'm in I'm goin' to stay. I wouldn't have come to pay my own ticket, for I'm a poor man, and I can't afford it."
"Do you think I can afford to throw away a dollar on two tickets?" demanded the farmer, angrily.