When Merishall went, Gus waited
until all the form had filed out, and, still dizzy and sick, he wearily
followed suit and turned in at his own door. As Gus came into the room
some one rose up and faced round to meet him, and Todd found himself
once more face to face with Cotton.
Now, the blow which had tumbled down Gus so heartily had, so to speak,
tumbled down the striker in his own mind just as thoroughly. Jim
Cotton's mind was not a subtle one, but the minute after he had floored
Gus and shut the door on him, his better mind told him distinctly that
he was a cad. Why? Because when he struck Gus the feeling was as though
he had struck a cripple. Gus had doubled up under the weight of his hand
as though he had been a leaf. Cotton dimly felt that for a fellow of his
build and weight to let Gus have the full benefit of both was not fair.
"That is how it must feel, I suppose, to strike a girl. My fist seems
unclean," he said, in huge disgust. "I'd give Todd his three sovs. back
if I could recall that blow. I wish I'd left the fool alone, and anyhow,
it's my opinion I don't shine much in our little squabble. Todd has been
playing the man since his Perry cropper, and I've been playing the cad
just because he was once useful to me and I did not want to let him go."
Cotton devoted the next few hours to a little honest unselfish thinking,
and the result was that he came pretty near to despising himself. "I'll
go and apologize to Gus, and if he shies the poker at my head I'm hanged
if I dodge it.
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