They cooled a little as the hands still held them and their explanations were demanded. Boss Maddox left Pinsent to other constraint and came and stood in the little space between the two groups, hands behind his back in the familiar posture, shoulders slightly hunched, head on one side, and turning it this way and that as Percival or Pinsent spoke. Presently he looked at Stingo. "That boy's right," he said, with a jerk back at Pinsent. "He's been struck. He's Foxy. This can't end here. He's got to have his rights." "He'll get 'em," Stingo said, with as much grimness as his huskiness could convey. "He'll get 'em if I let this lot loose. Don't you let him worry, Boss." Boss Maddox turned squarely on Pinsent. "Give it a rest till the morning, Foxy. You boys can't fight in this darkness--not you two." Pinsent laughed: "I'm not going to fight him. I'm going to thrash him." "Let me go, Japhra! Boss, let's have hands off! It's our show--no one else's." Boss Maddox went back to his first contention. "This can't end here, Stingo," and Japhra answered him: "Nay, there's blood to be let, Boss. We can't stop it--nor have call to." He released Percival while he spoke, but kept a hand on him, and motioned Stingo's arms away. He spoke in his slow habit, and with seeming reluctance, but there was a glimmer of relish in his voice. "They've to settle it, Boss." "Will you fight him, Pinsent?" Boss Maddox asked. Pinsent shook off the clutches upon him. He came forward two deliberate paces, and with great deliberation stretched himself, and with great deliberation spat upon the ground. Then fixed his eye on Percival. "If he likes to get out of it with a whipping," Pinsent said, "I'll learn him the manners he wants with your whip and let him off at that. If he's got the guts to stand up, I'll roast him till he lays down." He thrust forward his body towards Percival and said mockingly: "Which way? Which way, my pretty gentleman?" Percival's face was a white lamp in the dusky night. "Give us room!" he said. Then Pinsent's voice lost its deliberate drawl and rasped out in a rasp that showed his breeding and showed his hate: "I want light to serve you up, my gentleman! Light and a pair of shoes! Christ! I've waited too long for this to spoil it. I've a pattern to put on that pretty face of yours--not in this dark. Where'll I fight him, Boss? Where?" "Along the road in the morning." Percival came up. "I'll not wait, Boss. You've heard him. I'll not wait." Pinsent rasped: "Morning be withered! Now! Now, while I'm hot. Where'll I fight him?" Boss Maddox peered at his watch, then looked across the booths. "Nigh midnight--few left yonder. We'll be shut down in twenty minutes. At one o'clock." And Japhra, a strange tremble in his voice: "In your tent, Boss. The boys will want to watch this. Room there, and good light." Boss Maddox turned to Pinsent: "Good for you? The circus tent?"