To which, I returned a polite _"Yes sir;"_ steadily gazing my interrogator in the eye, to meet the first approach or dawning of the blow, which I expected my answer would call forth.

But, the conflict did not long remain thus equal.

Covey soon cried out lustily for help; not that I was obtaining any marked advantage over him, or was injuring him, but because he was gaining none over me, and was not able, single handed, to conquer me.

He called for his cousin Hughs, to come to his assistance, and now the scene was changed.

I was compelled to{188} give blows, as well as to parry them; and, since I was, in any case, to suffer for resistance, I felt (as the musty proverb goes) that "I might as well be hanged for an old sheep as a lamb." I was still _defensive_ toward Covey, but _aggressive_ toward Hughs; and, at the first approach of the latter, I dealt a blow, in my desperation, which fairly sickened my youthful assailant.