"Of course he wouldn't!" answered Jennings, shortly. "Mr. Graham's a gentleman. All the more reason why Woods can't swallow his language."
"Well, see here; I think Woods brought the whole thing on himself," said Bend, sturdily. "This is no personal row, and that young fellow has been taught all his life that a sentinel is entitled to respect, in the first place, and is expected to do his whole duty, in the second. I'm not 'going back on a class-mate,' as you seem to think, but I want you, and I want Woods here, to put yourselves in that plebe's place a moment, and say whether you'd have answered differently."
"We can't back out now," answered Woods, gruffly. "The whole corps knows just what he said, and it will be totally misjudged if we don't demand apology. He's got to apologize," he went on, hotly, "or else fight; and it's not your place to be interfering, Bend, and you know it."
"I wouldn't interfere if it were a simple matter of a personal row between the two; but this is a matter in which—and I say it plainly, Jennings—this young fellow is being set upon simply because he's been raised as a soldier, and knows more what's expected of a soldier than any man in his class, and—by Jupiter! since you will have it—than a good many of ours, you and Woods in particular." And now the cadet corporal's eyes were flashing. "What's more, Jennings, I believe Woods's better judgment would prompt him to see this thing as I do, but that you're forcing a fight."
By this time ears as well as eyes of half of B Company—First Class, yearlings, and plebes—were intent. Bend, indignant and full of vim, had raised his voice so that his words were plainly heard by a dozen at least. Fearful of a fracas on the spot, Cadet Lieutenant Ross sprang forward.
"Not another word, Bend! Be quiet, Jennings! You two can settle this later. I'm witness to what has been said; so are a dozen more. Go about your other affair, Jennings."
Jennings was boiling over with wrath. In cadet circles almost as much opprobrium is attached to the bully who is over-anxious to fight as to the shirk who won't fight at all—not quite so much, perhaps—but Jennings turned away.
"You'll hear from me later on this score, Bend," he growled. "I'm at Woods's service for the moment, and I decline any officious meddling on your part." With that he strode up the company street, his face hot and frowning.
Geordie was pinning a collar on his plebe jacket at the moment, and had resumed the gray dress of his class-mates in order to march with them to dinner. So had Connell. Foster and Frazier, all excitement, had been watching the scene down in front of the first sergeant's tent.