"Drunk!" suggested somebody.
"What's the odds if they be? 'Twill be all the better fun," answered Mr Crago. "No—far's one can tell they're dead sober. Come along and listen—" He hurried back and they after him.
"If he chooses to back out?" Cai was taunting Bias as the crowd pressed around. So true is it that:—
"To be wroth with one we love
Doth work like madness in the brain."
"Who wants to back out?" answered 'Bias sullenly.
"If a man insults me, I hold him to his word: either that or he takes it back."
"Quite right, Cap'n';" prompted a voice. "And he can't tell us he didn't say it, for I heard him!"
"I ain't takin' nothin' back." 'Bias faced about doggedly.
By this time, as their wits cleared a little, each was aware of his folly, and each would gladly have retreated from this public exhibition of it. But as the crowd increased, neither would be the first to yield and invite its certain jeers. Moreover, each was furiously incensed: anything seemed better than to be shamed by him, to give him a cheap triumph.
News of the altercation had spread. Soon two-thirds of the spectators were trooping to join the throng in the upper field, pressing in on the antagonists, jostling in their eagerness to catch a word of the dispute. The competitors in Class D were left to plough lonely furrows and finish them unapplauded. Young Mr Crago had run off meantime to secure the services of the two judges.