“Ob course dere was; doan’ you remember him?”
“No; do you?”
“You hain’t forgot dat splendid fout you begun wid dat chap in St. Joe when he butted into you?”
“Certainly not.”
“Wal, dat’s de gemman dat pulled you apart.”
“And that fellow with him is the one who struck me?”
“Suah’s you’s born; he knowed you, if you didn’t know him; I seed him watching you mighty sharp, as if he was achin’ to get another chance at you; he’d done it, too, if his uncle hadn’t been wid him.”
“If the chance ever does come, he’ll find me ready,” said Alden, compressing his lips, for the memory of the insult rankled. “I remember he called him ‘Ross’ in St. Joe, but forgot it a minute ago.”
“Why doan’ you ask him to come alone and wisit us?”
“If he called here it would be as my guest, and that would never do: it would be a breach of hospitality.”
“Den go ober and wisit him.”
