streets whenever he wants to, and you just try callin' my father a pup,
and you won't know what happened to you!"

"What'll _you_ do about it?"

"I'll put a new head on you," said Ramsey. "That's what I'll do, because
anybody that calls my father or mother a pup--"

"Oh, shut up! I wasn't talking about your ole father and mother. I said
everybody that mentioned Dora Yocum's name on the public streets was
a pup, and I mean it! Everybody that mentions Dora Yocum's name on the
pub--"

"Dora Yocum!" said Ramsey. "I got a perfect right to say it anywhere I
want to. Dora Yocum, Dora Yocum, Dora Yocum!--"

"All right, then you're a pup!"

Ramsey charged upon him and received a suffocating blow full in the
face, not from Mr. Bender's fist but from the solid bundle of books
at the end of the strap. Ramsey saw eight or ten objectives instantly:
there were Wesley Benders standing full length in the air on top of
other Wesley Benders, and more Wesley Benders zigzagged out sideways
from still other Wesley Benders; nevertheless, he found one of these and
it proved to be flesh. He engaged it wildly at fisticuffs; pounded
it upon the countenance and drove it away. Then he sat down upon the
curbstone, and, with his dizzy eyes shut, leaned forward for the better
accommodation of his ensanguined nose.

Wesley had retreated to the other side of the street holding a grimy