Part 18 (1/2)

”Dat's all right! See? I know me own business. If he wants t' fight one of dees d--n duels, I'm in it, understan'”

”Have you ever fought one, you fool?”

”No, I ain't. But I will fight one, dough! I ain't no m.u.f.f. If he wants t' fight a duel, by Gawd, I'm wid 'im! D'yeh understan' dat!” Patsy c.o.c.ked his hat and swaggered. He was getting very serious.

The little Cuban burst out--”Ah, come on, sirs: come on! We can take cab. Ah, you big cow, I will stick you, I will stick you. Ah, you will look very beautiful, very beautiful. Ah, come on, sirs. We will stop at hotel--my hotel. I there have weapons.”

”Yeh will, will yeh? Yeh bloomin' little black Dago!” cried Patsy in hoa.r.s.e and maddened reply to the personal part of the Cuban's speech.

He stepped forward. ”Git yer d--n swords,” he commanded. ”Git yer swords. Git 'em quick! I'll fight wi' che! I'll fight wid anyt'ing, too! See? I'll fight yeh wid a knife an' fork if yeh say so! I'll fight yer standin' up er sittin' down!” Patsy delivered this intense oration with sweeping, intensely emphatic gestures, his hands stretched out eloquently, his jaw thrust forward, his eyes glaring.

”Ah!” cried the little Cuban joyously. ”Ah, you are in very pretty temper. Ah, how I will cut your heart in two piece, my dear, d-e-a-r friend.” His eyes, too, shone like carbuncles, with a swift, changing glitter, always fastened upon Patsy's face.

The two peacemakers were perspiring and in despair. One of them blurted out--

”Well, I'll be blamed if this ain't the most ridiculous thing I ever saw.”

The other said--”For ten dollars I'd be tempted to let these two infernal blockheads have their duel.”

Patsy was strutting to and fro, and conferring grandly with his friends.

”He took me for a m.u.f.f. He t'ought he was goin' t' bluff me out, talkin' 'bout swords. He'll get fooled.” He addressed the Cuban--”You're a fine little dirty picter of a sc.r.a.pper, ain't che?

I'll chew yez up, dat's what I will!”

There began then some rapid action. The patience of well-dressed men is not an eternal thing. It began to look as if it would at last be a fight with six corners to it. The faces of the men were s.h.i.+ning red with anger. They jostled each other defiantly, and almost every one blazed out at three or four of the others. The bartender had given up protesting. He swore for a time and banged his gla.s.ses. Then he jumped the bar and ran out of the saloon, cursing sullenly.

When he came back with a policeman, Patsy and the Cuban were preparing to depart together. Patsy was delivering his last oration--

”I'll fight yer wid swords! Sure I will! Come ahead, Dago! I'll fight yeh anywheres wid anyt'ing! We'll have a large, juicy sc.r.a.p, an' don't yeh forgit dat! I'm right wid yez. I ain't no m.u.f.f! I sc.r.a.p with a man jest as soon as he ses sc.r.a.p, an' if yeh wanta sc.r.a.p, I'm yer kitten.

Understan' dat?”

The policeman said sharply--”Come, now; what's all this?” He had a distinctly business air.

The little Cuban stepped forward calmly. ”It is none of your business.”

The policeman flushed to his ears. ”What?”

One well-dressed man touched the other on the sleeve. ”Here's the time to skip,” he whispered. They halted a block away from the saloon and watched the policeman pull the Cuban through the door. There was a minute of scuffle on the sidewalk, and into this deserted street at midnight fifty people appeared at once as if from the sky to watch it.

At last the three Cherry Hill men came from the saloon, and swaggered with all their old valor toward the peacemakers.

”Ah,” said Patsy to them, ”he was so hot talkin' about this duel business, but I would a-given 'im a great sc.r.a.p, an' don't yeh forgit it.”

For Patsy was not as wise as seven owls, but his courage could throw a shadow as long as the steeple of a cathedral.

A DESERTION

The yellow gaslight that came with an effect of difficulty through the dust-stained windows on either side of the door gave strange hues to the faces and forms of the three women who stood gabbling in the hallway of the tenement. They made rapid gestures, and in the background their enormous shadows mingled in terrific conflict.

”Aye, she ain't so good as he thinks she is, I'll bet. He can watch over 'er an' take care of 'er all he pleases, but when she wants t'

fool 'im, she'll fool 'im. An' how does he know she ain't foolin' im'