Mason’s face was white, and his eyes glittered.
“You must agree to fight me, sah,” he said passionately, though trying to hold himself in check.
“Why should I?”
“Because, sah, if you do not, by the gods! I’ll brand you as a miserable coward, and I’ll slap your face in the presence of these fellows.”
Bart saw that Mason really meant fight. Now, to tell the truth, Hodge was not adverse to a fight with Hock, and it gave him real satisfaction when he saw that he could truthfully declare he had been forced into it. He had not wished Merriwell to think he would seek such a quarrel.
“Oh, well,” he said, “if you will have it, all right; but I call on Ready to witness that I did not force this affair.”
“That’s all right,” nodded Jack. “I am ready to witness that, but I had much rather witness the scrap. Say, I’m to be one of the guests of honor, am I nit?”
“I leave that to Mr. Mason,” said Bart coolly.
Hock made no reply. Instead, he said:
“I’ll see you, Mr. Hodge, sah, immediately after practise.”