my line."

Hiram tossed his feathered gladiator out upon the garden mould.

"S-s-s-s-! Eat him up, boy!" he commanded.

P.T. had his eye on the foe, but, with the true instinct of sporting
blood, he would take no unfair advantage by stealthy advance on the
preoccupied scratcher. He straddled, shook out his glossy ruff, and
crowed shrilly.

The other rooster straightened up from his agricultural labors, and
stared at this lone intruder on his family privacy. He was a tall,
rakish-looking fowl, whose erect carriage and lack of tail-feathers
made him look like a spindle-shanked urchin as he towered there among
the busy hens.

In order that there might be no mistake as to his belligerent
intentions, P.T. crowed again.

The other replied with a sort of croupy hoarseness.

"Sounds like he was full to the neck with your garden-seeds,"
commented Hiram. "Well, he won't ever eat no more, and that's
something to be thankful for."

The game-cock, apparently having understood the word to come on,
tiptoed briskly across the garden. The other waited his approach,
craning his long neck and twisting his head from side to side.

Reeves was now at the fence.

"I'll bet ye ten dollars," shouted Hiram, "that down goes your hen
the first shuffle."

"You will, hey?" bawled Reeves, sarcastically. "Say, you didn't
bring them three shells and rubber pea that you used to make your
livin' with, did ye?"

The old showman gasped, and his face grew purple. "I licked him twenty
years ago for startin' that lie about me," he said, bending blazing
glance on the Cap'n. "Damn the expense! I'm goin' over there and kill
him!"

"Wait till your rooster kills his, and then take the remains and bat
his brains out with 'em," advised the Cap'n, swelling with equal
wrath. "Look! He's gettin' at him!"

P.T. put his head close to the ground, his ring of neck-feathers
glistening in the sun, then darted forward, rising in air as he did
so. The other rooster, who had been awaiting his approach, stiffly
erect, ducked to one side, and the game-cock went hurtling past.

"Like rooster, like master!" Hiram yelled, savagely. "He's a coward.
Why don't he run and git your brother, Alcander, to put P.T. under
bonds to keep the peace? Yah-h-h-h! You're all cowards."

The game-cock, accustomed to meet the bravery of true champions of
the pit, stood for a little while and stared at this shifty foe. He
must have decided that he was dealing with a poltroon with