s I do," said I; "unless I am much mistaken, you are he whom folks
call the 'Flaming Tinman.' To tell you the truth, I'm glad we have met,
for I wished to see you. These are your two wives, I suppose; I greet
them. There's no harm done--there's room enough here for all of us--we
shall soon be good friends, I dare say; and when we are a little better
acquainted, I'll tell you my history."

"Well, if that doesn't beat all!" said the fellow.

"I don't think he's chaffing now," said the girl, whose anger seemed to
have subsided on a sudden; "the young man speaks civil enough."

"Civil!" said the fellow, with an oath; "but that's just like you; with
you it is a blow, and all over. Civil! I suppose you would have him
stay here, and get into all my secrets, and hear all I may have to say to
my two morts."

"Two morts!" said the girl, kindling up, "where are they? Speak for one,
and no more. I am no mort of yours, whatever some one else may be. I
tell you one thing, Black John, or Anselo,--for t'other a'n't your
name,--the same thing I told the young man here, be civil, or you will
rue it."

The fellow looked at the girl furiously, but his glance soon quailed
before hers; he withdrew his eyes, and cast them on my little horse,
which was feeding amongst the trees. "What's this?" said he, rushing
forward and seizing the animal. "Why, as I am alive, this is the horse
of that mumping villain Slingsby."

"It's his no longer; I bought it and paid for it."

"It's mine now," said the fellow; "I swore I would seize it the next time
I found it on my beat; ay, and beat the master too."

"I am not Slingsby."

"All's one for that."

"You don't say you will beat me?"

"Afraid was the word."

"I'm sick and feeble."

"Hold up your fists."

"Won't the horse satisfy you?"

"Horse nor bellows either."

"No mercy, then?"

"Here's at you."

"Mind your eyes, Jack. There, you've got it. I thought so," shouted the
girl, as the fellow staggered back from a sharp blow in the eye; "I
thought he was chaffing at you all along."

"Never mind, Anselo. You know what to do--go in," said the vulgar woman,
who had hitherto not spoken a word, but who now came forward with all the
look of a fury; "go inapopli; {287} you'll smash ten like he."

The Flaming Tinman took her advice, and came in bent on smashing, but
stopped short on receiving a left-handed blow on the nose.

"You'll never beat the Flaming Tinman in that way," s