"Who? Him? Him _fight_? I guess _not_. It's cause you're his dad. My dad, he said that if I dast to lay a finger on Andray Franswa, he'd skin me alive--an' the rest o' the kids, their dads told 'em the same thing." "I see," said the manager of the White Star, and he saw also that a certain disadvantage went with being the employer of nearly every man in the town. He took a thoughtful turn around the office, for his conscience gave him a twinge at the critical moment, then stopped abruptly in front of James Joseph and took from his pocket a bright, new silver dollar. "See this, Jimmie?" he asked, balancing it seductively on the tip of his index finger, "I will give you this, and further, I will see that no complaint is made to your father--if you lick André François." Each of Jimmie's eyes grew as big and as round as the dollar. "Sure? D' yer mean it? Gee, that'd be fine. There's goin' to be a circus next week in Briggs' lot, and us fellows is savin' up. Say--is that what you just said on the dead square?" "On the dead square," said André François' father solemnly. Jimmie held out his hand for the dollar. "Sure," he said, "I'll lick Andray Franswa. I'll lay low till that crazy Angélique is out of the way. Burbank, the assayer's assistant, is soft on her, and she stops to talk to him every afternoon, an' Andray Franswa walks as far as from school to the assayer's office alone. I'll get him then. I'm boss o' the gang, an' I kin lick fine. Onest I licked a kid an' he wasn't able to be out fer a week." "Wait," said Mr. Biron, a little alarmed at the enthusiasm he had invoked. "Remember--you are acting under orders, and your orders are not to hurt him. Just roll him around in the mud good and plenty--and, Jimmie, spoil that white sailor suit." Jimmie's eyes filled with fellow feeling. For the first time during the interview he and the White Star manager were equals. "I guess you was a pretty nice kid yourself onest," he said, "an' I know how you must feel 'bout Andray Franswa." He hesitated a moment, his face twitched with a fierce internal struggle, then he thrust out his arm straight from the shoulder and handed back to Mr. Biron the price of his service. "I--I'd be glad to do it as a favor," he said. "Thank you," said André François' father gravely, and he took and pocketed the dollar. As Jimmie was about to leave the office he put out a detaining hand. "Oh, by the way," he remarked, with elaborate casuality, "you said something of a circus in Briggs' lot--I can't get away myself, at present, but if you'd take this and go, and let me know if there is anything good, you'd oblige me greatly." Jimmie McCarthy left the office of the White Star with his ethics and his honor satisfied, and with a dollar in the pocket of his blue overalls. Thus was enacted the preliminary part of the plot to Americanize André François, _fils_.