not of his
companions, approached Reddin, and held out his hand.

"I ask yer pardon," said he. "You're a man, an' no mistake. It is my
life I owe to you; an' I'm proud to owe it to sech as you!"

But Reddin took no notice of the outstretched hand. The direct and
primitive movements of the backwoodsman's mind may seem to the
sophisticated intelligence peculiar; but they are easy to comprehend.
Jim Reddin quite overlooked the opportunity now offered for a display of
exalted sentiment. In a harsh, deliberate voice he said,--

"An' now, Bill Goodine, you've got to stand up to me, an' we'll see
which is the better man, you or me. Ever sence you growed up to be a man
you've used me just as mean as you knowed how; an' now we'll fight it
out right here."

At this went up a chorus of disapproval: and Goodine said, "I'll be d--d
if I'm a-goin to strike the man what's jest saved my life!"

"You needn't let _that_ worry you, Bill," replied Reddin. "We're quits
there. I reckon you forget as how your mother, God bless her, saved my
life, some twenty year back, when you was jest a-toddlin'. An' I vowed
to her I'd be good to you the very best I knowed how. An' I've kep' my
vow. But now I reckon I'm quit of it; an' if you ain't a-goin' to give
me satisfaction now my hands is free, then you ain't no man at all, an'
I'll try an' find some way to _make_ you fight!"

"Jim's right!--You've got to fight, Bill!--That's fair!" and many more
exclamations of like character, showed the drift of popular sentiment so
plainly that Goodine exclaimed, "Well, if you sez so, it's got to be!
But I don't want to hurt you, Jim Reddin; an' lick you I kin, every day
in the week, an' you know it!"

"You're a liar!" remarked Jim Reddin, in a business-like voice, as the
hands formed a ring.

At this some of the hands laughed, and Goodine, glancing around, caught
the ghost of a smile on Laurette's face. This was all that was needed.
The blood boiled up to his temples, and with an oath under his breath he
sprang upon his adversary.

Smoothly and instantaneously as a shadow Reddin eluded the attack. And
now his face lost its set look of injury and assumed a smile of cheerful
interest. Bill Goodine, in spite of his huge bulk, had the elasticity
and dash of a panther; but his quickness was nothing to that of Reddin.
Once or twice the latter parried, with seeming ease, his most
destructive lunges, but more often he contented himself with moving
aside like a