Page:Hugh Pendexter--Tiberius Smith.djvu/139

 "‘Once for all, gentlemen, understand I'm no prize-fighter. Mind you, I don't concede this poor, benighted mortal can clean me up, as he vulgarly expresses it. But so long as a unit you indorse my system, so long will it stand, and no brawler or gambler or boozer can have his shirt mended on that sewing-machine, or eat a sugared plum from that pink box, or hear "My Old Kentucky Home" on that talking-machine. He can only take his pork and potatoes and go home a sadder and, I trust, a wiser man. And again, any man who coarsely threatens me and intimates that I am fat, will get no stamps for a week. This holds good so long as the town, as a whole, backs me up.'

"The town went wild and howled itself hoarse, while Ruddy Mac observed, slowly, 'It would be a shame, boys, if Gump cut up any didoes and had to be hung.'

"The giant bowed his head and shuffled home. Then the gang began swapping their stamps. Five, for a stamp each, gathered about the talking-machine, and slapped their booted legs, and writhed in glee, and cried, 'Ain't that the limit?' While those who had no stamps coming stood sullenly around and scowled blackly at Tib.

"And he noticed their evil looks, and, picking out Slouchy Williams, declared: 'Mr. Williams, another of those furtive, sidelong, venomous glances at me