The Broad Highway

"Ah! Likewise some vinegar--theer's nothin' like 'vinegar--and

remember--the chin, a little to one side preferred."

"So then you think I shall be beaten?"

"Why, I don't say that, but it's best to be prepared, aren't it

now?"

And, with a friendly nod, the Innkeeper turned away. In that

same minute there arose another shout from the crowd as they

greeted Black George's last throw, and Job, striding up,

announced: "Ninety-eight!"

Then, while the air still echoed with their plaudits, I stepped

into the ring, and, catching up the hammer, swung it high above

my head, and, at the full length of my arms, began to wheel it.

The iron spun faster and faster till, setting my teeth, with the

whole force of every fibre, every nerve, and muscle of my body, I

let it fly.

The blood was throbbing at my temples and my breath coming fast

as I watched its curving flight. And now all voices were hushed

so that the ring of the iron could be plainly heard as it struck

the hard road, and all eyes watched Job, as he began pacing

towards us. As he drew nearer I could hear him counting to

himself, thus: "Ninety-one, ninety-two, ninety-three, ninety-four, ninety-five,

ninety-six, ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred,

one hundred and one, one hundred and two--one hundred and two!"

Next moment, as it seemed to me, an inarticulate Ancient was

desperately trying to force me into my coat, wrong side first,

and Simon was shaking my hand.

"You tricked me!" cried a voice, and turning, I found Black

George confronting me, with clenched fists.

"And how did I trick you?"

"I could ha' chucked farther nor that."

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because I thought you was beat. I say you tricked me."

"And I tell you the match was a fair one from start to finish!"

"Put up your hands!" said the smith, advancing in a threatening

manner.

"No," said I, "a bargain is a bargain," and turning my back upon

him, I fell to watching the man with the rake, who, not content

with Job's word, was busily pacing out the distance for himself.

"Put up your hands!" repeated Black George hoarsely.

"For the last time, no," said I over my shoulder. "Strike me if

you will," I went on, seeing him raise his fist, "I shall not

defend myself, but I tell you this, Black George, the first blow

you strike will brand you coward, and no honest man."