Joe’s attitude was full of menace, but Mr. Hale neither moved nor took his own cool gaze from his enemy’s face. Though Jessica had taken swift alarm and leaped down to place herself beside the smith and clasp his hand with her own.
“No, no. You promised, and I’m your captain. Soldiers obey their captains and you chose me yourself. You are not to hurt him nor abuse him, though, I, too”–here she wheeled about and faced her guest, crying: “hate you, hate you! Oh! that’s wicked. That’s rude. But, sir, how dared you say my father–the best man ever lived–kept–took–it isn’t true, it isn’t!”
The lawyer rose, somewhat unsteadily. The sight of the daughter’s grief disturbed his calmness more than the affronts offered him by her bearded henchmen. It was to her that he addressed the question:
“Am I permitted to say a word in my own behalf, Captain Jessica?”
A growl ran around the room, but she held up her small hand, protestingly.
“Yes. That’s fair. My father always taught me to be fair. I’m sorry I was–I wasn’t polite––”
“No, you aren’t,” shouted Samson. “Don’t you dare be sorry for anything but the kindness you’ve showed that skunk!”
“Samson, it was you made me captain!”
“All right. I give in. Be as fair as you like, I can’t help it.”
“Tell us all there is to tell. As you told Aunt Sally.”