"Cut nothin'!" cried Dannie. "Let's see ye try to touch it!"
Into the river went Jimmy; splash went Dannie from his bank. He
was nearer the tangled lines, but the water was deepest on his
side, and the mud of the bed held his feet. Jimmy reached the
crossed lines, knife in hand, by the time Dannie was there.
"Will you cut?" cried Jimmy.
"Na!" bellowed Dannie. "I've give up every damn thing to ye all
my life, but I'll no give up the Black Bass. He's mine, and I'll
land him!"
Jimmy made a lunge for the lines. Dannie swung his pole backward
drawing them his way. Jimmy slashed again. Dannie dropped his
pole, and with a sweep, caught the twisted lines in his fingers.
"Noo, let's see ye cut my line! Babby!" he jeered.
Jimmy's fist flew straight, and the blood streamed from Dannie's
nose. Dannie dropped the lines, and straightened. "You--" he
panted. "You--" And no other words came.
If Jimmy had been possessed of any small particle of reason, he
lost it at the sight of blood on Dannie's face.
"You're a domn fish thief!" he screamed.
"Ye lie!" breathed Dannie, but his hand did not lift.
"You are a coward! You're afraid to strike like a man! Hit me!
You don't dare hit me!"
"Ye lie!" repeated Dannie.
"You're a dog!" panted Jimmy.
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