Part 19 (1/2)
”Yes, over in the grove.”
”All right. Got him there? I don't care whether he's gentle or not. I can manage him all right. The first thing one of you farmers tells a fellow is that his horse is gentle, when he knows that all he wants is an opportunity to run away. So you may save yourself that trouble.”
Milford conducted him to a spot out of view from the house. He halted and threw his hat on the ground. He told him what the hired man had said.
”Well,” said Dorsey, ”this is a fine proceeding.”
”Take off your coat.”
”What are you going to do?”
”Whip you if I can.”
”But I'm not looking for any trouble.”
”You may not have looked for it, but you've found it.”
”Say, this is all nonsense. You won't tell me what I said, and I don't remember. But let me tell you something. You can't whip me. I can mop the earth with you--my way. Is that the way you want to fight?”
”Yes. _My_ way would mean something. But it won't do in this country.
Take off your coat.”
The fellow was an athlete. Milford was no match for him. He had the strength, but not the skill in boxing. But once Milford got him down, ran under and s.n.a.t.c.hed his feet from under him. In a moment, though, he was up again, meeting strength with skill. Three times he knocked Milford down. It was useless to continue to fight. Milford held up his hands. ”We'll call it off for the present,” he said, panting.
”Suit yourself. I've got nothing to fight about except to keep from getting licked, and it's for you to say when to stop.”
”Well, I say stop, for the present. I haven't been used to fighting your way. I'm from the West, and if I had you there we'd soon settle it. It's not over with as it is. I'll see you again. Do you expect to come back out here this summer?”
”Well, I'm not going to let you keep me away. You don't know what you've run up against, young fellow. I teach boxing in town. That's my lay.”
”All right. I'll see you again.”
”But my way, understand. Don't come any Western business on me.”
”I'll see you again and your way. I never was beaten long at a time.”
”Good enough. Got through seeing me about the horse?”
”I'm through. No, wait a moment. If you go back to the house and say anything about this affair, I'll try you the Western way. Do you understand?”
”Oh, it's nothing to me. I won't mention it. Good-day. I'll take care of your horse.”
Milford went home, covered with blood. He washed himself and lay down under the walnut tree to steam in his anger. His lip was cut and his cheek was bruised. He jumped up suddenly, ran into the house and took two pistols out of a battered leather bag, but he put them back and sat down in the door to cool. The hired man came around the corner of the house.
”I guess you must have found him,” he said, halting with a smile and a nod.
”Yes, and he was too much for me. But I'll get even with him.”
”That's the way to look at it. May take a long time, but it's to come round all right. I used to drive a team in Chicago. And one day I had to cuss the driver of a coal wagon, and he ups with a lump of coal and smashes my face. I was a long time getting even with him, but I got there.”
”Did you kill him?”
”Kill him! Well, I should say not. I didn't have enough money to kill him and get away with it. I just waited, watchin' him close every time I saw him. And one day he jumped off his wagon, slipped on the ice and broke his leg. Satisfied me, and after that I turned him loose.”