So now, if you won't travel, why, take off your coat and git ready fer a thrashing." The master took off his coat and showed his slender arms.

Bud laid his off, and showed the physique of a prize-fighter.
"You a'n't a-goin to fight _me_ ?" said Bud.
"Not unless you make me." "Why I could chaw you all up." "I know that." "Well, you're the grittiest feller I ever did see, and ef you'd jest kep off of my ground I wouldn't a touched you.

But I a'n't a-goin' to be cut out by no feller a livin' 'thout thrashin' him in an inch of his life.
You see I wanted to git out of this Flat Crick way.

We're a low-lived set here in Flat Crick.

And I says to myself, I'll try to be somethin' more nor Pete Jones, and dad, and these other triflin', good-fer-nothin' ones 'bout here.