“That makes no difference. Now, I want you to pay for those guns.”
“Oh, you do?”
“You bet I do!”
“Well, that is nerve!” laughed Merry, his eyes flashing. “After you overturned your own boat in the attempt to break my head, you expect us to pay for the guns you lost.”
“You are responsible, and you’ll have to pay.”
“There is another opinion about that. You and Mr. Welch are responsible for everything that has occurred between us. Had not Welch tried to break my head with an oar, you would not have capsized and lost your guns. That being the case, you cannot expect us to pay for them.”
To the man, Frank seemed very mild and quiet, and this encouraged Bunker, who fancied it would not be difficult to scare him.
“We do expect you to pay for them!” shouted the man, fiercely; “and you will, too!”
“No, we will not.”
Still, Merriwell was not in the least excited. He even smiled serenely into the face of the water-soaked, angry man. As he did so, he unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt and began to roll them back. Two round, white arms, shining with dampness, were exposed.