“Bah! You saved him because you were afraid.”
“Of what?”
“That, if he died, you would be held responsible. It was cowardice, not bravery, that led you to get him out of the water.”
“You are at liberty to think that, if you like; it makes no difference to me.”
“I know it.”
“All right. I pulled him out, just the same, and we pumped the water out of him after getting him ashore. You were not on hand to help, and he would be dead past resuscitation at this moment had he depended on you.”
Bunker advanced another step.
“It makes no difference,” he grated; “you’ll pay for the guns, just the same—and for the oars, too. I want twenty dollars for my gun, and Jim’s was worth fifteen. The oars bring it up to—well, you can cough up fifty dollars, and we’ll call it square.”
“How kind!” laughed Merriwell. “My dear sir, we could not think of accommodating you.”
“You’ll have to, or I’ll crack your skull sure this time!”