crept noiselessly to a spot whence
she could peer out and see and hear all that might happen. Soon she
saw the school-teacher coming, as was his wont, leisurely, looking at
the ground at his feet and with his hands clasped behind his back. He
did not see the threatening figure waiting until Jay rose.

"Stop thar, little Iry," he sneered, and he whipped out his revolver
and fired. The girl nearly screamed, but the bullet cut into the dust
near Ira's right foot.

"Yuh danced purty well t'other night, an' I want to see ye dance some more
by yo'self. Git at it!" He raised his gun again and the school-teacher
raised one hand. He had grown very red and as suddenly very pale, but he
did not look frightened.

"You can kill me," he drawled quietly, "but I'm not going to dance for
you. Suppose you whoop me instead--I heard that was your intention."
Jay laughed.

"Air ye goin' to fight me?" he asked incredulously.

"I'd rather be licked than dance."

"All right," said Jay. "I'll lam' ye aroun' a little an' spank ye good
an' mebbe make ye dance atterwards." He unbuckled his pistol and tossed
it into the grass by the roadside.

"Will you fight fair?" asked Ira, still formal in speech. "No wrestling,
biting, or gouging."

"No wrasslin', no bitin', no gougin'," mimicked Jay, beginning to
revolve his huge fists around each other in country fashion. The
little man waited, his left arm outstretched and bent and his right
across and close to his chest, and the watching girl almost groaned.
Still his white, calm face, his steady eyes, and his lithe poise
fascinated her. She would not let Jay hurt him badly--she would come
out and take a hand herself. Jay opened one fist, and with his open
hand made a powerful, contemptuous sweep at Ira's head, and the girl
expected to see the little teacher fly off into the bushes and the fight
over. To her amazement Ira gave no ground at all. His feet never moved,
but like a blacksnake's head his own darted back; Jay's great hand fanned
the air, and as his own force whirled him half around, Allaphair had to
hold back a screech of laughter, for Ira had _slapped him_. Jay looked
puzzled, but with fists clinched, he rushed fiercely. Right and left
he swung, but the teacher was never there. Presently there was another
stinging smack on his cheek and another, as Ira danced about him like
the shadow of a magic lantern.

"He's a-tirin' him down," thought Allaphair, but she was wrong; Ira was
trying