TIBERIUS SMITH
would fight the Seal River champion, Marquis of Queensbury rules governing, and stake his goldmine secret against the little kid.
"Chuck gazed at his round face and bruised jaw in open amazement, and then a look of admiration crept into his little black eyes. And it seemed to me as if he were pitting Tib in his savage fashion. 'It shall be so!' he cried, in his deep voice, that his grandsire's blood could not rob of its rumbling, chesty intonation.
'This is to be on the square?' insisted Tib.
Chuck reminded him he would still retain the secret if cheated. Then he grew serious and faced his followers, and swore by their Shaman that the mill was not to be a double-cross. 'Fight now?' he asked, eagerly, throwing off his fur coat and jumping several feet from the ground.
"I could see he was crazy for a go, and realized he had probably had but little chance to practise up among his fellow-thieves.
"Tib touched his jaw and shook his head, and said he would enter the ring on the morrow. While the chief was disappointed, he immediately sent in some stew for us to eat and some oil to rub on Tib's bruises. You see, he didn't want the fracas to be too easy. He wanted to cherish and foster his opponent so as to have it interesting. Meanwhile we went to work. Tib had a gilt-edged memory and
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