He had not licked Cheese-Face, nor had Cheese-Face licked him.

The problem had not been solved.

It was not until afterward that they learned that Cheese-Face's father had died suddenly that very day.
Martin skipped on through the years to the night in the nigger heaven at the Auditorium.

He was seventeen and just back from sea.

A row started.
Somebody was bullying somebody, and Martin interfered, to be confronted by Cheese-Face's blazing eyes.
"I'll fix you after de show," his ancient enemy hissed.
Martin nodded.