Southern States -- History -- 1865-1877 -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
Ferdy had received that day a letter from his mother which stated that
Louise Caldwell's mother was making a set at Norman for her daughter.
Ferdy's jealousy was set on edge, and he now began to talk about Norman.
Rhodes sniffed at the sneering mention of his name, and Gordon, whose
face still wore a surly look, pricked up his ears.
"You need not always be cracking Norman up," said Wickersham to Rhodes.
"You would not be if I were to tell you what I know about him. He is no
better than anybody else."
"Oh, he is better than some, Ferdy," said Mr. Rhodes. Gordon gave an
appreciative grunt which drew Ferdy's eyes on him.
"You think so too, Keith, I suppose?" he said. "Well, you needn't. You
need not be claiming to be such a friend of his. He is not so much of a
friend of yours, I can tell you. I have heard him say as many mean
things about you as any one."
It was Gordon's opportunity. He had been waiting for one.
"I don't believe it. I believe it's a lie," he declared, his face
whitening as he gathered himself together. His eyes, which had been
burning, had suddenly begun to blaze.
Mr. Rhodes looked up. He said nothing, but his eyes began to sparkle.
"You're a liar yourself," retorted Wickersham, turning red.
Gordon reached for him. "Take it back!" At the same moment Rhodes sprang
and caught him, but not quite in time. The tip of Gordon's fingers as he
slapped at Ferdy just reached the latter's cheek and left a red
mark there.
"Take it back," he said again between his teeth as Rhodes flung his arm
around him.
For answer Ferdy landed a straight blow in his face, making his nose
bleed and his head ring.
"Take that!"
Gordon struggled to get free, but in vain. Rhodes with one arm swept
Wickersham back. With the other he held Gordon in an iron grip. "Keep
off, or I will let him go," he said.
The boy ceased writhing, and looked up into the young man's face. "You
had just as well let me go. I am going to whip him. He has told a lie on
my friend, who saved my life. And he's hit me. Let me go." He began
to whimper.
"Now, look here, boys," said Rhodes; "you have got to stop right here
and make up. I won't have this fighting."
"Let him go. I can whip him," said Ferdy, squaring himself, and adding
an epithet.
Gordon was standing quite still. "I am going to fight him," he said,
"and whip him. If he whips me, I am going to fight him again until I do
whip him."
Mr. Rhodes's face wore a puzzled expression. He looked down at the
sturdy face with its steady eyes, tightly gripped mouth, and chin which
had suddenly grown squarer.
"If I let you go will you promise not to fight?"
"I will promise not to fight him here if he will come out behind the
barn," said Gordon. "But if he don't, I'm going to fight him here. I am
going to fight him and I am going to whip him."
Mr. Rhodes considered. "If I go out there with you and let you have two
rounds, will you make up and agree never to refer to the subject again?"
"Yes," said Wickersham.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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