himself into a rage. "He couldn't hurt me if he tried. I could lick him
on my knees with one hand behind my back. I believe Joe there could lick
him with one hand tied behind his back."

"I bet he can't," said Ben, measuring Larry with his eye and desiring to
defend him from this degrading accusation. "I bet he'd put up a pretty
fine scrap," continued Ben, "if he had to." Larry's heart warmed to his
champion.

"Yes, if he had to," replied Mop with a sneer. "But he would never have
to. He wouldn't fight a flea. Joe can lick him with one hand, can't you,
Joe?"

"I donno. I don' want fight me," said Joe.

"No, I know you don't want to, but you could, couldn't you?" persisted
Mop. Joe shrugged his shoulders. "Ha, I told you so. Hurrah for my man,"
cried Mop, clapping Joe on the back and pushing him toward Larry.

Ben began to scent sport. He was also conscious of a rising resentment
against Mop's exultant tone and manner.

"I bet you," he said, "if Larry wanted to, he could lick Joe even if he
had both hands, but if Joe's one hand is tied behind his back, why Larry
would just whale the tar out of him. But Larry does not want to fight."

"No," jeered Mop, "you bet he don't, he ain't got it in him. I bet you
he daren't knock a chip off Joe's shoulder, and I will tie Joe's hand
behind his back with his belt. Now there he is, bring your man on.
There's a chip on his shoulder too."