a dozen times, but I see he did n’t want t’ dew it.  Kep’ prickin’ ’im ev’ry lunge ‘n’ druv ’im off the boards—­tumbled ‘im head over heels int’ the crowd.  Them air devils threw up their hats ‘n’ stomped ‘n’ hollered powerful, es ef ‘t were mighty fun t’ see a man cut t’ pieces.  Wall, they tuk up another man, quicker ’n the fust, but he wa’n’ nowhere near s’ big ‘n’ cordy.  Wa’n’t only one crack o’ the swords in thet air fight.  Could n’t hardly say Jack Robinson ’fore the cuss hed fell.  Ray hurt him bad, I guess, for they hed t’ pick ’im up ‘n’ carry ’im off luk a baby.  Guess the boy see ’t he hed a good many to lick, ‘n’ hed n’t better waste no power a-foolin’.  All t’ once thet air low-lived, spindlin’, mis’able devil he come t’ the edge o’ the platform ‘n’ helt up his hand.  Soon ’s they stopped yellin’ he says; ‘Gentlemen,’ he says, ‘sorry t’ tell ye thet the man fer the next bout hes got away.  We left him securely fastened up ’n the fust chamber.  Have hed the building searched, but ain’t able t’ find him.  He must hev gone down the slide.  I am sorry to say we hev no more Yankees.  If this man fights any more it will hev t’ be a Britisher thet goes ag’in’ ’im.  Is there a volunteer?’

“Ray he runs up ‘n’ says suthin’ right ’n his ear.  Could n’t hear whut ‘twus.  Did n’ set well.  T’ other feller he flew mad, ‘n’ Ray he fetched ’im a cuff, luk thet, with the back uv his hand.  Ye see, he did n’ know he hed been a-fightin’ Yankees, ‘n’ he did n’ like the idee.  ‘Gentlemen,’ says he, ’I ’ll fight anybody, but ef this chap ain’t a coward, he ‘ll fight me himself.’  T’other feller he off with his coat ‘n’ vest es quick es a flash ‘n’ picked up a sword.  ‘Fight, then, ye cub!’ says he; an’ they flew at each other hell bent fer ‘lection.  He wa’n’ no fool with a sword, nuther, I can tell ye, thet air spindlin’ cuss.  I see Ray hed his han’s full.  But he wus jest es cool es a green cowcumber, eggzac’ly.  Kep’ a-cuffin’ t’ other sword, ‘n’ let ’im hit ‘n’ lunge ‘n’ feint es much es he pleased.  See he wus jest a-gettin’ his measure, ‘n’ I knew suthin’ wus goin’ t’ happen purty quick.  Fust I knew he ketched Ray by the shirtsleeve with the p’int uv ’is sword ‘n’ ripped it t’ the collar.  Scairt me so I bit my tongue watchin’ uv ’em.  They got locked, ‘n’ both swords came up t’ the hilts t’gether with a swish ‘n’ a bang luk thet.  The blades clung, ‘n’ they backed off.  Then Ray he begun t’ feint ‘n’ lunge ‘n’ hustle ’im.  Quicker ’n scat he gin ’im an awful prick ’n the shoulder.  I c’u’d see the blood come, but they kep’ a-goin’ back ‘n’ forth ‘n’ up ‘n’ down desperit.  The red streak on thet air feller’s shirt kep’ a-growin’.  Purty quick one side uv ‘im wus red an’ t’ other white.  See he wus gettin’ weaker ‘n’ weaker.  Ray c’u’d ‘a’ split ‘im t’ the navel ef he’d only hed a min’ tew.  All t’ once he med a jab at Ray, ‘n’ threw up ’is han’s, ‘n’ went back a step er tew, luk a boss with th’ blin’ staggers, ‘n’