In his school-days Nickerson had been a good deal of a bully, and this at times cropped out, upon the slightest provocation. As Carl staggered back, Nuggy gave a low laugh.
“Good for you, Jerry! He deserved it,” he said.
Carl’s face grew as red as a beet; and his eyes—those eyes which were sky-blue, and generally as mild as those of a lamb—flashed fire.
“So I vos von Dutch idiot, hey?” he demanded angrily. “And you vos teach me von lesson, not so? Meppe I vos teach dot lesson, hey? How you like dot, hey? und dot?”
He hauled off suddenly; and two blows straight from the shoulder made Jerry see stars, and sent him staggering into Nuggy. A third blow followed, which loosened one of Nickerson’s front teeth, and made him drop upon a near-by settee, dazed and bewildered.
“Haf you got enough?” demanded Carl, as he followed his opponent with fists clenched for another blow.
“Don’t! Don’t!” cried Nickerson.
“Hi! let my friend alone!” came from Nuggy, in alarm. He was afraid Nickerson would be killed. “Let him alone, I say, you clown!”
“Ton’t call me a klown!” roared Carl. “Of you do, I’ll gif you a lickin’, too!” And he squared off at Nuggy in a manner which caused that unworthy one to fall back in dismay.
By this time the attention of a number of soldiers who were near was attracted, and they gathered around. “A fight, boys!” cried one. “The Dutchman is going to polish off one of the newspaper men!”