"No; the foreman's enough," Hopalong responded, handing his weapons to
Johnny and turning to face the captain, who was looking into Johnny's
gun as he rubbed his arms to restore perfect circulation.
"Now, you flat-faced coyote, yo're going to get the beating of yore
life, an' I'm going to give it to you!" Hopalong cried, warily advancing
upon the man whom he held to be responsible for the miseries of the past
twenty-four hours. "You didn't give me a square deal, but I'm man enough
to give you one! When you drug an' steal any more cow-punchers--" action
stopped his words.
It was a great fight. A filibustering sea captain is no more peaceful
than a wild boar and about as dangerous; and while this one was not at
his best, neither was Hopalong. The latter luckily had acquired some
knowledge of the rudiments of the game and had the vigor of youth to
oppose to the captain's experience and his infuriated but well-timed
rushes. The seamen, for the honor of their calling and perhaps with a
mind to the future, cheered on the captain and danced up and down in
their delight and excitement. They had a lot of respect for the prowess
of their master, and for the man who could stand up against him in a
fair and square fist fight. To give assistance to either in a fair fight
was not to be thought of, and Johnny's gun was sufficient after-excuse
for non-interference.
Pages:
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39