"Matter? The matter is that you'll get out of this pretty lively, or I'll come in there and throw you out!" cried he of the stave.
"Come in and try it," laconically replied our traveller.
The conductor, who was standing outside, watching his deputy's performance, asked the latter if any thing was the matter and if he needed help.
Now it so happened that the brakeman was what is known, in the language of the road, as a "bouncer." That is, he was a hybrid combining the qualities of a brakeman and a bruiser, and was frequently called into requisition by the conductor to take the dirty work of ejecting tramps off of his hands. So he replied to his chief that he needed no assistance, but would send him down a tramp in piecemeal in a few moments. With this he plunged through the end gate, intent on giving Ben a sound drubbing. But he reckoned without his host. Ben was a stout, sinewy, young fellow, and an excellent boxer, though his muscles lacked hardness. As the "bouncer" reached for his collar with one hand, while with the other he aimed a blow at his face, Ben gave him a trip accompanied by a stinging punch between the eyes that sent him sprawling to the floor; and with a knowledge of the work before him, brought his adversary down with smart raps three times successively, as the bully strove to regain his feet.
At this unexpected treatment the professional "bouncer" called loudly for help, and his chief, sliding back a side door, sprang to the rescue, also armed with a stave. When Ben, whose blood was now up, turned to face his new assailant, the "bouncer" regained his feet and stave, and aiming a vicious blow at Ben missed him, from the fact that the latter at that moment, by accident, stepped aside, and the stave brought the conductor a tremendous thwack on the side of his head. This so startled and enraged the latter, that howling with pain and maddened with the blood starting from a gashed cheek, he ignored Ben, and returned the "bouncer" his blow with interest, and in a moment the two were engaged in a give and take pitch battle.
Our hero was on the point of vacating the car, but noticing that the conductor, who was a small man, was about to get the worst of it, he turned, and seizing the "bouncer" by the collar hurled him through the open door, and followed himself, intent on renewing the battle outside, when he suddenly found himself surrounded by the majesty of the law in the shape of a policeman. Two other guardians of the peace attracted to the scene by the noise of the encounter, seized the conductor and brakeman, and the trio were marched off, followed by half a score of rail-roaders; the two damaged officials breathing fire and fury upon one another to the utter neglect of Ben. The officer in charge of our friend informed him that he was safely landed in the ancient town of Harrisburg, and that it was five o'clock.
Fortunately, as it ultimately proved, the police court was still in session, being engaged on special business. The prisoners were therefore immediately marched into the presence of a short, plethoric Milesian gentleman, who upheld the honors of the municipal bench.
No sooner did his eyes encounter the form of our friend than he called out:
"What! Here again, are yez! What did I tell yez the last time! Ye're here too often, that yez air. Do yez think the coort was made for your consumption? It's twinty dollars and costs, or sixty days in the lockup. Shut up! Every word out of yez will be sixty days more. What's the charges, officer?"
Poor Ben was dumbfounded. He was positive he had never met this vicious little magnate before in all his life, and did not know that the greeting he received was the august manner in which the blind goddess of the police court of Harrisburg struck terror into the hearts of those who had the misfortune to tread on the tail of her coat.