Jack stood steadily looking at the ruffians, his blue eyes growing black
with excitement and his hands clenched tightly in the pockets of his
reefer.
"Slowly, men, slowly," said he. "If you want me, you may have me. There
are ladies in the carriage; let them go on; I'll stay with you as long
as you like. You are brave men, and you have no quarrel with ladies."
"Ladies, eh!" said the Hun, "ladies! I never saw anything but _women_.
Let's have a look at them, boys."
This speech was drunkenly approved, and the men pressed forward. Jack
stood firm, his face was white, but his eyes flamed.
"Stand off! There are good men who will die for those ladies, and it
will go hard but bad men shall die first."
The Hun disregarded the warning.
"I'll have a look into--"
"Hell!" said the slow-of-wrath Jack, and his fist went straight from the
shoulder and smote the Hun on the point of the jaw. It was a terrible
blow, dealt with all the force of a trained athlete, and inspired by
every impulse which a man holds dear; and the half-drunken brute fell
like a stricken ox.
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