counting it out -- two dimes, a quarter, and fifty cents.
"There," he said.
For a second Jurgis waited, expecting to see him turn
again. "My ninety-nine dollars," he said.
"What ninety-nine dollars?" demanded the bartender.
"My change!" he cried -- "the rest of my hun~
dred!"
"Go on," said the bartender, "you're nutty!"
And Jurgis stared at him with wild eyes. For an
instant horror reigned in him -- black, paralyzing, awful
horror, clutching him at the heart; and then came rage,
in surging, blinding floods -- he screamed aloud, and seized
the glass and hurled it at the other's head. The man
ducked, and it missed him by half an inch; he rose
again and faced Jurgis, who was vaulting over the bar
with his one well arm, and dealt him a smashing blow in
the face, hurling him backward upon the floor. Then, as
Jurgis scrambled to his feet again and started round the
counter after him, he shouted at the top of his voice, "Help!
Help!"
Jurgis seized a bottle off the counter as he ran; and as
the bartender made a leap he hurled the missile at him with
all his force. It just grazed his head, and shivered into a
thousand pieces against the post of the door. Then Jurgis
started back, rushing at the man again in the middle of the
room. This time, in his blind frenzy, he came without a
bottle, and that was all the bartender wanted -- he met
him halfway and floored him with a sledge-hammer drive
between the eyes. An instant later the screen-doors flew
open, and two men rushed in -- just as Jurgis was getting
to his feet again, foaming at the mouth with rage, and try~
ing to tear his broken arm out of its bandages.
"Look out!" shouted the bartender. "He's got a
knife!" Then, seeing that the two were disposed to join
in the fray, he made another rush at Jurgis, and knocked
aside his feeble defense and sent him tumbling again; and
the three flung themselves upon him, rolling and kicking
about the place.
A second later a policeman dashed in, and the bartender
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