demeanor. He glowered appraisingly at the intruder. He saw
Brice was a half-head shorter than himself and at least thirty
pounds lighter. Nor did Brice's figure betray any special
muscular development. Apparently, there could be but one
outcome to such a battle.

The man's fists clenched, afresh. His big muscles tightened.
Brice saw the menace and spoke again.

"It's only fair to warn you," said he, gently, "that I shall
thrash you worse than ever you've been thrashed before in all
your down-at-heel life. When I was a boy, I saw George Siler
beat up five men who tackled him. Siler wasn't a big man.
But he had made a life-study of leverage. And it served him
better than if he'd toted a machine gun. I studied under him.
And then, a bit, under a jui-jutsu man. You'll have less
chance against me than that poor collie had against you. I
only mention it as a friendly warning. Best let things rest
as they are. Come, puppy!" he chirped to the highly
interested dog. "Let's be on our way. Perhaps we can find
the people who lost you. That's what I've been wanting to do,
all day, you know," he added, in a lower voice, speaking
confidentially to the dog, and beginning to stroll off toward
the woods.

But the barefoot man would not have it so. Now, he
understood. This sissyfied chap, with the high and-mighty
airs, was bluffing. That was what he was doing. Bluffing!
Did he think for a minute he could get away with it, and with
the dog?