make me afraid; he can't make me run away." What with his rage and his
secret fear, the boy had quite lost control of himself.

"So that's it," said Mack, reading both rage and fear in his eyes.
"Listen to me, Larry," he continued in a voice low and stern. "You quit
this monkey work right now or, by the jumping Jehoshaphat, I will lick
the tar out of you myself when this is over. You're not afraid of him;
I know that--we all know that. But you don't want to kill him, eh? No.
What you want is to make him look like a fool. Well, then, fight, if you
want to fight, but remember your rules. Play with him, make him follow
you round until you get his wind; there's your chance. Then get him hard
and get away."

But the boy spoke no word in reply. He was staring gloomily,
desperately, before him into space.

Mack seized him, and shaking him impatiently, said, "Larry boy, listen
to me. Don't you care for anybody but yourself? Don't you care for me at
all?"

At that Larry appeared to wake up as from a sleep.

"What did you say, Mack?" he answered. "Of course I care, you know that,
Mack."

"Then," said Mack, "for God's sake, get a smile on your face. Smile,
confound you, smile."

The boy passed his gloved hand over his face, looked for a moment into
Mack's eyes, and the old smile came back to his lips.