All through the afternoon he could be overheard relating the wonder to any one who would listen, exaggerating the effect of his blow, inventing terrific details.

Why, the heifer had just frothed at the mouth, and his eyes had rolled up--ah, sure, his eyes rolled up just like that--and the butcher had said his skull was all mashed in--just all mashed in, sure, that's the word--just as if from a sledge-hammer.
Notwithstanding his reconciliation with the dentist on the boat, Marcus's gorge rose within him at McTeague's boasting swagger.

When McTeague had slapped him on the back, Marcus had retired to some little distance while he recovered his breath, and glared at the dentist fiercely as he strode up and down, glorying in the admiring glances of the women.
"Ah, one-horse dentist," he muttered between his teeth.

"Ah, zinc-plugger, cow-killer, I'd like to show you once, you overgrown mucker, you--you--COW-KILLER!" When he rejoined the group, he found them preparing for a wrestling bout.
"I tell you what," said Heise, "we'll have a tournament.

Marcus and I will rastle, and Doc and Ryer, and then the winners will rastle each other." The women clapped their hands excitedly.