Читать книгу A Battle for Right; Or, A Clash of Wits онлайн

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In a flash, he was again at the front of the stage, glaring about him.

“Who threw that?” he demanded, in a voice of thunder. “Point him out to me! Whaur is the skulkin’ cur that would do a thing like that to a young lassie who is too good to wipe her shoes on most of us? If I don’t find the mon that done it, I’ll come forward an’ lick a dozen of ye till I find the richt one!”

The bigger of the two men who had been making the demonstration against the singer let out a loud, defiant laugh.

“I done it, if you want to know!” he bellowed. “Now, what are yer goin’ to do about it?”

“Oh, it’s you, Dan Mosely, is it?” replied the Scot, more angry than ever. “I might ha’ known it was some one like you!”

That was all Mackenzie Douglas said just then. The young fellow who had been watching took a hand. He pushed aside half a dozen men who were in his way, chairs and all, knocked over a table, and was upon the fellow Douglas had called Dan Mosely with both of his sinewy hands.

Taking Dan by the collar, he swung him out of his chair and hurled him at full length upon the floor, with a couple of chairs on top of him.