"The place for it," Pinsent said. "Sharp at one. Japhra, you and me are ring men; come and settle a point." "Come thou to me," Japhra answered him sturdily. "Thou and I!--I knew the ring, the knuckle ring, before thou sucked." "Come to the tent," Boss Maddox interposed. "Best settle there." Japhra took Percival a space away. "Lay thee down," he said. His voice was frankly trembling now, and he pressed both Percival's hands in his. "Bide by my words; bide by them. Lay thee down till I return to thee. Forget thy spite against yonder fox. Ima!" She was at his side, her hands clasped together, her face white and strained. "Forget him his spite, and what comes, Ima. While he lies, with a rug and with his boots from his feet, bide thou there and read to him--Crusoe, eh? Stingo and I will make for thee, master. I am not long gone." CHAPTER IV FOXY PINSENT _V._ JAPHRA's GENTLEMAN I Visitors to the booths who had stayed late that night went home complaining of the abruptness with which the shows were closed and of the uncouth way in which showmen who had fawned and flattered for their patronage suddenly seemed no more occupied with them than to bustle them off the ground and set their faces townwards. But visitors were not in the line of communication that flashed that amazing news around the camp: "Heard it?" "No!" "Foxy Pinsent's to fight Japhra's Gentleman in the marquee!" "What of it?" "What of it, yer muddy thick? What of it? Not a show--private! Had a scrap and to fight it out!" "Eh? Fac'? No! When?" "One o'clock. When the ground's clear." And, with a nod at the sightseers, "Get 'em out, mate! Get 'em out! Stars and stripes! What a knock-out!"