“I bought this Parnassus from Mr. Mifflin fair and square for four hundred dollars.  That’s the price of about thirteen hundred dozen eggs,” I said. (I had worked this out in my head while Mifflin was talking about his book.)

“The money’s mine, and I’m going to use it my own way.  Now, Andrew McGill, if you want to buy any books, you can parley with me.  Otherwise, I’m on my way.  You can expect me back when you see me.”  I handed him one of Mifflin’s little cards, which were in a pocket at the side of the van, and gathered up the reins.  I was really angry, for Andrew had been both unreasonable and insulting.

Andrew looked at the card, and tore it in halves.  He looked at the side of Parnassus where the fresh red lettering was still damp.

“Well, upon my word,” he said, “you must be crazy.”  He burst into a violent fit of sneezing—­a last touch of hay fever, I suspect, as there was still goldenrod in the meadows.  He coughed and sneezed furiously, which made him madder than ever.  At last he turned to Mifflin who was sitting bald-headed with a flushed face and very bright eyes.  Andrew took him all in, the shabby Norfolk jacket, the bulging memorandum book in his pocket, the stuffed portmanteau under his foot, even the copy of “Happiness and Hayseed” which had dropped to the floor and lay back up.

“Look here, you,” said Andrew, “I don’t know by what infernal arts you cajoled my sister away to go vagabonding in a huckster’s wagon, but I know this, that if you’ve cheated her out of her money I’ll have the law on you.”

I tried to insert a word of protest, but matters had gone too far.  The Professor was as mad as Andrew now.

“By the bones of Piers Plowman,” he said, “I had expected to meet a man of letters and the author of this book”—­he held up “Happiness and Hayseed”—­“but I see I was mistaken.  I tell you, sir, a man who would insult his sister before a stranger, as you have done, is an oaf and a cad.”  He threw the book over the hedge, and before I could say a word he had vaulted over the off wheel and ran round behind the van.

“Look here sir,” he said, with his little red beard bristling, “your sister is over age and acting of her own free will.  By the bones of the Baptist, I don’t blame her for wanting a vacation if this is the way you treat her.  She is nothing to me, sir, and I am nothing to her, but I propose to be a teacher to you.  Put up your hands and I’ll give you a lesson!”

This was too much for me.  I believe I screamed aloud, and started to clamber from the van.  But before I could do anything the two fanatics had begun to pummel each other.  I saw Andrew swing savagely at Mifflin, and Mifflin hit him square on the chin.  Andrew’s hat fell on the road.  Peg stood placidly, and Bock made as if to grab Andrew’s leg, but I hopped out and seized him.

It was certainly a weird sight.  I suppose I should have wrung my hands and had hysterics, but as a matter of fact I was almost amused, it was so silly.  Thank goodness the road was deserted.