Amy's happy prattle became intolerable. Tom hinted at things he had
to attend to; things that must be done; and time was fleeting. But in
vain--the girl chirped on. Tom thought, "Oh, hang her, ain't I ever going
to get rid of her?" At last he must be attending to those things--and she
said artlessly that she would be "around" when school let out. And he
hastened away, hating her for it.
"Any other boy!" Tom thought, grating his teeth. "Any boy in the whole
town but that Saint Louis smarty that thinks he dresses so fine and is
aristocracy! Oh, all right, I licked you the first day you ever saw this
town, mister, and I'll lick you again! You just wait till I catch you
out! I'll just take and--"
And he went through the motions of thrashing an imaginary boy--pummelling
the air, and kicking and gouging. "Oh, you do, do you? You holler
'nough, do you? Now, then, let that learn you!" And so the imaginary
flogging was finished to his satisfaction.