Never Love a Stranger Read Online Free PDF

feel to be a half-man?” “Christ killer!”
    “Muff diver!”
    The boy stood there tensely, his face white but calm. His eyes proudly flashed hate at them. They edged towards him threateningly. He dropped the book he was carrying and pressed his back closer to the wall. He started to raise his fists. He seemed to be a little shorter than I. He was blond, blue-eyed, and thin-featured. Finally he spoke.
    “I can lick any one of you in a fair fight.” His voice betrayed no fear.
    They gave him the horse-laugh and moved closer towards him. “You can’t lick our boots!” one of them said.
    I got to my feet and walked across the street. This was going to be good. “Hi, Frankie,” one of the boys said.
    “Hello, Willie,” I replied.
    “Let’s get the little Jew son-of-a-bitch!” cried one of the gang.
    “Nix,” I said. “You heard him. He said he can lick any one of us. You’re not going to let him get away with that. One of us is goin’ to fight him.”
    The crowd looked at me doubtfully. “Well,” I said, “who’s goin’ to do it?” There was no answer.
    “O.K.,” I said, “I’ll do it.”
    The circle broke and I walked through. The Jewboy looked at me. I knew he was sizing me up.
    I put up my fists. He stepped forward and swung at me wildly. I dodged it easily and stepped back. He didn’t know anything about fighting. He followed me and threw several punches that I blocked easily.
    The crowd began to holler. “Sock him, Frankie!”
    “Kick him!”
    I fell back till I was near the edge of the kerb when I realized I still had the cigarette in
    my mouth. I kept it there to show them that I knew I could handle him. He swung again and missed. He was beginning to breathe heavily. “Golly!” I thought, “he knows I can lick him. Why in hell don’t he run for it?” I pretended to slip on the kerbstone, and the cigarette fell from my mouth. When I looked up he was still there waiting for me. I stepped towards him, hit him a ripper in the guts, and followed it with a right cross to the jaw. Down he went on his back. The boys began to jump up and down. “Kick him!” they kept hollering. The Jewboy tried to get up but couldn’t quite make it. Finally, he just lay there watching me with his eyes. I put my hands down.
    Willie yelled: “Let’s roll him in the gutter.” The boys started to move on him. I stepped across him and stood in front of him.
    “I licked him,” I said. “Leave him alone.”
    They looked at me a moment and saw I meant it. They didn’t know what to do; they looked at one another.
    “O.K.,” I said, “you’ve had your fun. Now beat it.”
    They began to walk off. I watched them go around the corner. When they had gone from sight I sat down on the kerbstone next to where the Jewboy was lying. I took a package of cigarettes from my pocket and offered him one. He shook his head in refusal. I took one myself and lit it. We were silent for a few seconds. Then he sat up slowly.
    “Thanks,” he said.
    “For a sock in the kisser?” I said and laughed.
    “For letting me off easy,” he said. “That gang——”
    “Aw, they’re all right, I said. “They just wanted to have a little fun. They didn’t mean nothin’.”
    “Some fun!” he said dryly and got up and picked up his book. He looked a little shaky.
    I looked up at him from the kerbstone. “You ought to learn how to fight if you’re goin’ to hang out in this neighbourhood, Jewboy.”
    He didn’t say nothing to that, but if the set of his mouth meant anything I could see he was going to learn.
    Just then Father Quinn came down the street and I jumped to my feet. “Hello, Francis,” he said to me.
    “Hello, Father,” I said, touching my hand to my forehead in a half salute.
    “You haven’t been fighting with this boy, have you, Francis?” he asked quizzically, looking at the Jewboy.
    Before I could answer, the Jewboy spoke up. “Oh, no, sir, we weren’t fighting. Francis was giving me a boxing