For a moment Larry stood as though estimating Mop's fighting qualities.

Then apparently making up his mind that on ordinary terms, owing to his lack in size and in strength, he was quite unequal to his foe, he looked quickly about him and his eye fell upon a stout and serviceable beechwood stake.

With quiet deliberation he seized the club and began walking slowly toward Mop, his eyes glittering as if with madness, his face white as that of the dead.
So terrifying was his appearance that Mop began to back away.

"Here you, look out," he cried, "I will smash you." But Larry still moved steadily upon him.

His white face, his burning eyes, his steady advance was more than Mop could endure.