"Man, Geordie, what ails ye the nicht?" asked Walker in hurried alarm,
wondering wildly how he could stave off the chastisement which he knew
from Geordie's voice he might expect. "Talk sensibly, man. Try an' ha'e
some sense. What's the matter wi' ye?"
"Matter," echoed Geordie, "jist this. The wife has jist telt me a' aboot
the nicht ye cam' chappin' to the door when I was lyin' hurt. She kent
I'd break yer neck for it, and she was feart to tell me. So put up yer
fists, ye black-hearted brute that ye are. I'm gaun to gi'e ye what we
should hae gotten seven years syne, an' it'll maybe put ye frae preyin'
on decent women. Come on."
"Awa', man, Geordie, an' behave yersel'," began Walker, trying to evade
him.
"Tak' that, then, ye dirty brute!" and Geordie smashed his fist straight
between Walker's eyes.
Roused at last, Walker showed fight and swung at Sinclair. He was the
younger man by about two years, and had not had the hard work and bad
conditions of the other, but Sinclair was a strong man, and was now
roused to a great pitch, so he struck out with terrific force. Then the
two closed and swayed about, struggling, cursing and punching each other
with brutal might.
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