“Don’t preach to me, Mercer!” snapped the little cadet.
“I’m not preaching. If you don’t go and report, I shall be compelled to do it for you. So make up your mind at once, please.”
Vench’s face flushed. “All full of soldier-boy dignity and importance, aren’t you, Mercer? No sense of fair play or honor about you.”
“Why, yes, I think that there is,” retorted Jim, coolly. “I’m giving you a chance to report yourself and lighten your punishment. Seems to me that I couldn’t be any fairer than that.”
“You could forget it altogether,” cried Vench heatedly. “Look here, Mercer, I’ll make it worth your while!”
“In what way?” asked Jim, his eyes narrowing.
“Well, I have a little money that the officers don’t know anything about——”
“That will do!” snapped Jim. “A moment ago you were talking about honor! How much honor do you think is in a proposition like that?”
Vench took a step forward, his face flaming. “Look here you—you cad! Do you mean to say that I’m not honorable? I’ll have you understand that some of the noblest blood in old France runs in my veins!”
“That won’t help you now,” returned Jim. “As far as that goes, I guess my own blood is pretty good, although I’m not aware that any of it came from noblemen, unless they happened to be the only kind of noblemen that count, honest people.”