"Let go."' The hostler's thick lips emitted a disdainful laugh.
"Let go, d'you hear ?" repeated the young man.
"I'll let go at your nose," said the hostler, clenching his knobby fist.
"Very well," said the young man.

"Then I'll pull yours." "Oho!" said the hostler, his scowl growing fiercer.

"Yer means bizness, does yer ?" With that he sent Sleepy Sol staggering along the road and rolled up his shirt-sleeves.

His coat was already off.
The young man did not remove his; he quietly assumed the defensive.

The hostler sparred up to him with grim earnestness, and launched a terrible blow at his most characteristic feature.