When the pursued plunged into the river, the pursuer paused on the brink. For a moment it seemed as if he were only waiting for his victim to appear at the surface before leaping in after him, and Stumpy and two or three others laid detaining hands on him. Almost immediately, however, it appeared that he was not minded to risk himself in the water, although his wrath was by no means assuaged, for, after a few moments, Gallagher, who could swim like a fish, reappeared some twenty yards from shore, and, keeping himself easily afloat, turned to his foe. Thereupon, Long Mike, making no effort to break away from the men who held him, opened his mouth and spoke. “---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----,” he said. “---- ---- ---- ----.” “Is that so?” responded Gallagher, mockingly. He was not devoid of courage, though neither he nor any three men up and down the river cared to face Long Mike in a rough-and-tumble fight. “It is,” said Long Mike, “an’ if ye’ll come ashore, I’ll break ivery bone in yer body.” “Ye’ll not,” said Gallagher. “An’ why?” demanded Long Mike. “Because I’ll not come ashore.” Preposterous as this proposition was, Long Mike did not appear to recognize the fact that the other could hardly remain in the water indefinitely, and that all he had to do was to wait. He broke out again in language to which no polite person would willingly listen, and concluded by saying: “I can lick the life out o’ yez.” “Ye can,” said Gallagher, unhesitatingly. “An’ I can outdhrink yez.” “Ye can that,” said Gallagher again. “An’ I can outrun yez.” “Yis.” “An’ I can outswear yez, an’--an’--an--an’ I’m a betther man than yez in ivery way,” sputtered Long Mike, not seeming to be able to call to mind any more specific accomplishments. “Y’ are not,” said Gallagher. “Whin it comes to dhraw-poker, I’ll play ye fer years ag’in minutes, an’ bate ye the two-thirds of all eternity.” “Draw-poker, is it?” exclaimed Long Mike. “Av ye’ll coom in out o’ the wet an’ play a freeze-out, I’ll win yer money an’ yer house an’ lot, an’ the clo’es off yer back, till yer naked as a bald head, an’ worn out as a burnt match.” “I’ll go ye,” said Gallagher, “f’r all I have, ag’in everything ye have yoursilf.” There was a murmur of dissent and some derisive laughter from the crowd, for Gallagher, though fairly well-to-do according to the Brownsville standard, was the other’s employee and by no means a peer of the principal capitalist of the town, who, in addition to his visible resources, had money secreted in his house. But Long Mike raised his hand. “Let be,” he said, sternly. “I have a lesson to tache this omadhaun. Faith, he’s growin’ too large to live in the same town wid the likes o’ me.”