As quick as a flash King's right arm went out and his massive fist landed squarely between Chester's eyes. The blow was so strong that the young planter reeled back into the crowd, instinctively pressing his hands to his face. King was ready to strike again, but some of his friends stopped him and pushed him back against the counter. Others in the crowd forcibly drew his maddened antagonist away, and further trouble was averted.
With a hand that was strangely steady, King registered his name with the pen the clerk was extending to him.
"Let it drop, King," the clerk said. "He's so drunk he hardly knows what he's doing. He seems to have it in for you, for some reason or other. It looks like jealousy to me. They were devilling him over at Trabue's office awhile ago about his failure and your big success. Let it pass this time. He'll be ashamed of himself as soon as his liquor dies out."
"Thank you, Jim," King replied. "I'll let it rest, if he is satisfied with what he's already had."
"Going out home to-night?" the clerk asked.
"If I can get a turnout at the stable," King answered.
"You will have to take a room here, then," the clerk smiled, "for everything is out at the livery. I know, because two travelling men who had a date with George Wilson over there are tied up here."
"Then I'll stay and go out in the morning," said King. "I'm tired, anyway, and that is a hard ride at night."
"Well, take the advice of a friend and steer clear of Chester right now," said the clerk. "He's a devil when he's worked up and drinking. Really, he's dangerous."
"I know that, but I'll not run from him," said King. "I thought my fighting day was over, but there are some things I can't take."