Part 20 (2/2)
”What was it?” The demand was insistent.
”He jest 'lowed that if 'stid of warin' pants an' straddlin' hosses, ye'd pick ye out an upstandin' man an' wed him, thar mout come ter be some _real_ men in ther fam'ly.”
The girl's face crimsoned.
”I thought ye said hit war me ye fought erbout, Joe.”
”I did say so, Alexander.”
”An' ye didn't see no aspersion thet called fer a fight--in ther way them words teched _you_?”
That phase of the matter had not occurred to Joe at all. He was used to being overlooked.
”He warn't thinkin' erbout me,” he lamely exculpated. ”I reckon he hed hit in head thet I hain't quite twenty-one yit.”
For a while Alexander stood looking at him with a slowly gathering tempest of anger in her eyes, under which the boy fidgeted, and finally she spoke in that ominously still manner that marked moments of dang'er.
”What he said erbout me war true enough--an' ef ye admits what he all but said erbout you--thet ye hain't no man--then _thet's_ true too.”
The boy was crestfallen and a little impatient now. He had come to recount an achievement which had plumed and reappareled a limping self-respect and he had expected congratulation.
”What's ther use of faultin' me by mincin' words? I licked him, didn't I? Set hit down ter anything ye likes.”
Her voice still held that cold note of inflexible but quiet anger.
”Yes, ye licked him but hit looks like ter me ye picked yore man plum keerful an' got ye an easy one. Wait hyar, I'm goin' atter my hat.”
”What fer?”
”Were a'goin' over thar tergether--an' ye're goin' ter crave his pardon.”
”I wouldn't crave his pardon,” burst out the boy violently, ”ter save his soul from torment. I'd be a laughing stock ef I did.”
”Ye're agoin' ter do one of two things, Joe,” she announced with finality. ”Ye're either agoin' ter ask his pardon, whilst I stands by an' hears ye do hit or else ye're a'goin' ter tell him thet ye licked him over ther wrong words--an' thet seein' ye blundered, ye're willin'
ter lick him afresh over ther right ones--him or anybody he names ter fight in his place.”
Joe hung his head for a moment, then the p.r.i.c.king of the old self-scorn came with a turning tide.
”All right,” he said. ”Let's go.”
It was an unmannerly, but a very astonished crew upon which they came but at the sight of Alexander herself they all became sheepish and discomfited of aspect.
”Sol,” began the girl tersely, ”Joe tells me thet him an' you hed a fight jest now over somethin' ye said erbout he. I kin do my own fightin', but Joe hes something ter tell ye on his own account.”
So introduced, Joe spoke and this time it was the swimmer striking boldly into deep water.
”Alexander 'lows I didn't hev need ter fight over loose talk erbout her. But when airy feller says thar hain't no man in my household, so long's I'm thar, I hev got ample cause ter fight. Ye've got ter tek thet back right now. Ef so be ye hain't rested up yit, an' ye've got any friend hyar thet ye'd like ter hev take yore place, I'm ready fer him.”
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