"Fight you, my friend?"

"Yes, fight me."

"You had better be careful. Don't challenge me to fight you. I am a gentleman, I am, and an athlete. You are only a common man; you can't fight me."

The men all laughed at the idea of the dude's being an athlete.

"I know you are an athlete, but you must fight me all the same."

"I beg your pardon, my friend, I cannot fight you here on the public street."

"You need not fight me here."

"But I don't wish to fight you at all."

"But you must fight me."

"Where can I fight you?"

"Oh, we can go right over there in the grove--no one will see us--but you must fight."

"You do not want me to thrash you, do you?"

"Yes, I do."

"You are not seeking for a fight, are you?"

"Yes, I am."

"Why, my friend, you'll get a surprise if you fight me. I am a regular fighter, I am--hee, hee, hee! I don't want to take advantage of you."

Little did those fellows dream as they laughed that the supposed chappie was telling the truth. Indeed he had a surprise for them and he intended to work up to the climax for all it was worth.

"Come on, I am going to make you fight me."

The challenger was quite a l.u.s.ty fellow, and on appearances one would have thought he would knock the chappie over with a mere side-swing of his arm.

"Say, you fellows are foolish. Don't provoke me; I am a terror--yes, I am--hee, hee, hee!"

"All right, I am looking for a terror."

"And you want me to go over to the grove?"

"Yes."

"And you insist upon it?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, I'll go over with you."

The party, full of glee, walked over to the grove.

There was the challenger and two friends and our hero, and he amused his friends by a display of his agility, his muscle and sinew. When they reached the grove the fellow who was to fight threw off his coat and Oscar said:

"See here! It's a good deal of trouble for me to thrash you; it's like work--I don't like work. I'll give you fellows fifteen cents to go to get your beer and call it off."

The men guffawed.

"Come on," said the challenger, walking up and squaring for Oscar. The latter stood with his hands at his sides, a picture of effeminacy, but when the man tapped him on the nose a most singular and astonishing result followed. Seemingly without an exertion the dude let drive, caught his a.s.sailant and insulter on the forehead and sent him tumbling, heels up. It was one of the cleanest knock-downs on record.

CHAPTER VII.

OSCAR HAD PROMISED A SURPRISE AND HE MAKES GOOD HIS PROMISE, AND AFTER SERVING OUT THE MAN AND HIS FRIENDS HE STARTS OUT AND ENCOUNTERS MORE SERIOUS ADVENTURES.

Our hero had promised the men a surprise, and he kept his word. A more surprised man than the fellow who caught the stinging blow never went whirling to the ground. It is stated that a similar scene frequently occurred with Billy Edwards, the light-weight champion, years ago, who gave no evidence in his appearance of being the athlete and powerful hitter that he really was.

The man who got it was a little dazed when he recovered his feet. He looked surprised indeed, but made a rush, possibly thinking there had been some mistake and he had been kicked by a mule instead of receiving the sockdologer from the effeminate-looking dude. He made a rush, as stated, when Dudie Dunne got into shape, worked his att.i.tude, and dancing around his antagonist a moment he let drive again, and a second time the astonished insulter and challenger went whirling to the ground, blood spurting from his nose while his eyes began to swell.

The two other men were so surprised they just stood and looked on.

Indeed it was a curious sight, but Oscar did not intend them to have the laugh so easy. Like the Irishman and the bull they had had their laugh before they went over the fence. It was their turn, thought Dudie Dunne, and as he gave his first a.s.sailant the second clip he swung round and quick as a flash light of a photographer he let the two men successively have it square on the forehead and over they went, heels up. When they recovered their feet they used them--used them to good advantage--in getting away, while chappie went for number one again, but the fellow begged---actually begged--and our hero picking up his coat flung it at him and commanded:

"Get away, you dirty dog, and mind what you are at next time you attempt to insult a man who did no harm to you."

The whole tone and manner of the supposed dude had changed, and as the three men joined each other at some distance one of them said:

"What was it we struck?"

"I reckon we struck against a stone wall or a flying brick, from the way my face is swelling."

The men had gotten their surprise, and our hero, as a matter of prudence, being alone in the grove, changed his disguise, dropped the chappie role altogether, and walked off in an opposite direction. He had visited the neighborhood for a special purpose, and his run-in with the three rowdies had only been a side diversion.

Oscar walked over to a row of dilapidated-looking houses, where he had presented a view of the miserable condition in which human beings can live and thrive. On the way over he pa.s.sed the three men whom he had served out, and so complete was his disguise they failed to recognize him. He walked past the cottages several times and only attracted a pa.s.sing glance; or it is more probable that those who saw him did not recognize that he had pa.s.sed and repa.s.sed. Oscar was going by for the third time when he saw a face--a dark face with glittering black eyes--appear at one of the upper windows just for an instant. Our hero, however, was one of those who can take in a great deal at a glance and he muttered:

"Aha! a fish has seen the bait, now there will come a nibble."

The detective after a little pa.s.sed down by the row of houses for the fourth time, and he kept his eyes seemingly in one direction, when in fact his glance was directed toward the window where for one instant he had seen the dark face. The face did not appear again, and he muttered:

"That was a nibble, sure. Now we will see."

He repa.s.sed the houses for the fifth time, going very slowly, but seemingly attracted no attention. He was aware, however, that he was being very closely observed, not from the window where he had seen the face, but by a female and a rather pretty-looking young Italian woman, and as our hero pa.s.sed she smiled upon him very sweetly--and she could smile sweetly--and her glittering black eyes were illuminated with a brilliance that was charming.

Our hero stopped short, stepped toward the stoop on which the girl was sitting, and asked: