The boy stepped forward and spoke angry-like in some foreign language. I guess he was mad and his English clean got away from him. He stopped of a sudden and says so we could understand:
“I will show you to speak with more respect—” Then he shut up quick and acted like he had let out something he didn’t want to, and muttered to himself in his foreign language again.
“We’re just as respectful to you as you are t-t-to us,” says Mark. “We d-don’t have to go out of our way to be r-r-respectful to any boy. You might as well understand that on the start.”
The boy looked surprised. “Are you noble?” says he.
“N-noble?” says Mark, sort of puzzled. Then he grinned. “D’you mean do we b’long to the nobility? If that’s it I calc’late we’re as noble as they m-make ’em in these parts. I don’t call to mind anybody that’s nobler.”
“Yes,” says Binney, “any of us is entitled to be President of the United States—if we can get elected.”
“Oh,” says the boy. “I did not understand. I ask your pardon. I shall not again commit the same offense.”
I didn’t quite catch what offense he was talking about, but I guess Mark did, for he let on that it was all right as far as he was concerned.
“Say,” says Plunk, “what nationality are you, anyway? Injun?”
The boy got so straight his back was like to bust and he looked as proud as the fellow who stuck in his thumb and pulled out a plum.