“Didn’t insult him,” spluttered Hockley, rising. “I just asked him the question we agreed on,—if he had seen any of the rest of our crowd,—when he up and knocked me down.”
“I—I won’t argue the matter,” interrupted Captain Sudlip. “I know your game. After this you can mind your own business and leave me alone.”
“We will leave you alone,” answered Professor Strong, as calmly as ever. “But first I am going to have my say. I know of your trick to leave us behind. You told me you would sail at three o’clock and then you changed the time to one o’clock.”
“I did not, I——”
“We won’t argue that matter. Fortunately we got back before one o’clock, so your little plan was nipped in the bud. We are going to sail with you as far as Havana, and you must treat us fairly while we are on board, otherwise I shall enter a complaint with the owners of this ship. And as for hitting this young man, you must apologize or I will back him up in having you arrested as soon as we reach port.”
At these final words from Amos Strong the captain’s face became a study. There was a look of rage and hate there, mingled with that of baffled cunning. He had gotten himself in a tight corner and he knew it. Two other passengers had seen the assault on Hockley, so there were witnesses enough to his misdeed. The talk had collected quite a crowd, including all the boys.
“So you think I ought to apologize?” he said, slowly.
“Yes, and you’ve got to do it, too!” put in Hockley, growing bolder, now he saw that Professor Strong was, for once, backing him up.
“You had no right to play a joke on me.”
“I was only asking you a simple question.”