He slid out, easily and gracefully, but was compelled to wheel and face his assailant.
"Don't," urged Tom.

"It's too hot." "I'm hot myself," leered the stranger, dancing nearer.
"You look it," Tom admitted.

"If you don't stop dancing, you'll soon be hotter.

It makes me warm to look at you." "Stop this one, ye tin-horn!" snarled the stranger.
"Certainly," agreed Tom, blocking the blow.

"However, I wish you wouldn't be so strenuous.