you didn't come up to Stella's to-night," he pants. "I hope you don't think I had anything to do with that. I've had a frightful row with Stella over it, and"
The fellow with the sweater gets off the stool and walks up to the end of the fountain. He looks at Spence in the pirate's suit and back to his friend with a nasty grin. Then he turns to me, and the grin has went.
"Say, you big dumbell, get busy on them ginger ales or I'll slap you for a mock orange!" he snarls.
I am talking to Spence and I pay no attention. "That's all right, Spence," I says. "I don't blame you and maybe Stella's right. Go back and have a good time. I don't belong and"
But Spence is looking over my shoulder at the other fellow, and Spence's eyes is wide and scared. He seems to be trying to make some signals to me with 'em too. The tough-looking baby suddenly grabs me by the shoulder and gives me a push. "Get back there and give us them drinks!" he bellers. "You"
Never mind what he called me. I swung around and looked at him, and my mouth slips into a nervous grin, which I want to stop and can't. Then I shot out my right arm as hard as I could—like when I slammed that punching bag at Coney Island with Spence. My fist landed fair and square on this fellow's chin, and it felt like hitting the side of a building, but he went down on his back like I'd stabbed him through the heart.
Spence yelled, and the other fellow let out a terrible curse. But I felt wonderful. I never knocked nobody down before in my life, and I want to say it is quite a
