The stick was raised again. It was about to fall, when suddenly it
flew into the air, the grip of the boy relaxed, and Farrington staggered
back from a furious blow dealt him by the young clerk. Farrington tried to
recover, but each time he was hurled to the floor by the stalwart athlete
standing before him, his eyes blazing with anger.
"Get up, you coward!" he cried, when at length Farrington remained
sprawling upon the floor. "Get up if you can, and dare!"
"Curse you!" snarled the defeated man. "Ye'll pay fer this!"
"We'll see about that later," calmly replied the clerk. "There's to be no
more bullying while I'm here, and I won't be here long, for I'm done with
you and your outfit."
"Go, go at once, d--n you, or I'll kick ye out!" shouted Farrington.
"Kick me out, if you can," came the reply. "Get up and do it," and the
young man laughed scornfully. "No, you know you can't. Now, look here;
just a word before we part. I've stood your insolent abuse for a week,
without retaliating. But when you laid hands upon that boy it was a
different matter."
"But he flew at me like a wild-cat," Farrington growled.
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