But he hit him with a left from nowhere and hit him three times as he started to go.
The other one, the first whistler, had closed fast and well, for a man who had been drinking, and the Colonel gave him the elbow in the mouth and then, under the light, had a good right hand shot at him. When it was in, he glanced at the second whistler and saw that was okay.
Then he threw a left hook. Then he put the right way into the body, coming up. He threw another left hook and then turned away and walked toward the girl because he did not want to hear the head hit the pavement.
He checked on the one that had it first, and noted he slept peacefully, chin down, with the blood coming out of his mouth. But it was still the right color, the Colonel noted.
“Well, there goes my career,” he said to the girl. “Whatever that was. But those people certainly wear funny pants.”
“How are you?” the girl asked.
“I’m fine. Did you watch it?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll have bad hands in the morning,” he said absent-mindedly. “But I think we can walk away from it all right. But let’s walk slowly.”
“Please walk slowly.”
“I did not mean it that way. I meant let’s not be hurried in our departure.”
“We will walk as slowly as two people can walk.”
So they walked.
“Do you want to try an experiment?”
