"Well, don't cry about it," cried Charley, quite jocular. "I suppose that there will be no trouble in satisfying you. What say? shall I make arrangements for a meeting, so that you can have a pop at each other?" he continued, addressing Fred.
"The fact of it is," Charley said, dropping his voice to a whisper, "the fellow is a bloodthirsty wretch, and has committed more than half a dozen murders, yet they cannot be brought home to him. You have struck him, and he will take your life on the first opportunity. You had better shoot him, and get him out of the way. I will explain the matter to the government inspector, and there will be nothing said about the matter."
"But you forget that the ruffian may shoot me," replied Fred, with a smile.
"Well, the fact of it is, I disremembered that. But I'll tell you what I will do, if you think it will be of any consolation to you. If he hits you, I'll challenge him, and revenge your loss."
"I am much obliged to you, certainly," Fred replied; "but I won't request you to put your life in danger on my account. If you think I am bound to give satisfaction for the blow, please act in connection with my friend as my second."
"We'll arrange it, never fear," Charley said, with great readiness, as though the meeting was one of the most natural things in the world.
Cowards are always fickle, and can be swayed by good or bad success. Those who a few minutes before were silent, or encouraged the English bully in his course, now left his ranks, arrayed themselves upon our side, and many a hand, rough and hard with toil, was stretched out for us to grasp and receive congratulations.
"Faith, Mr. Yankee," whispered a Hibernian to Fred, "ef ye can kill the divil, do so wid all your heart, for a bigger thief never lived. He stole me boots day afore yesterday, and the spalpeen refuses to return 'um."
"He licked me last week," said another, in an under tone, "and if you think you can afford to beat him for a pound, I'll give it, readily."