‘You insist? How long is it since you have fenced? I should be sorry for that brown beard of yours, if a deep-carte necessitated shaving half of it.’ Greif laughed merrily at the idea, and Rex smiled.
‘Yes, my friend, I insist. Never mind my beard. That young man will not fight another round for many a long semester after I have done with him.’
‘Were you such a famous schlager formerly?’
‘No. Nothing especial. But I can settle Herr Bauer.’
‘I do not know about that,’ said Greif shaking his head. ‘He is one of the best. He came here expressly to pick a quarrel with me, who am supposed to be the best in the University. He is in search of a reputation. You had better be careful.’
‘Never fear. Go and arrange matters. I will stay here till you come back. It is too early to go home yet.’
Greif was amazed at his friend’s determination, though he had no choice but to do as he was requested. He walked quickly towards the brewery where he was sure of finding the second in charge of his Korps, and probably a dozen others. At every step the situation seemed more disagreeable, and more wholly unaccountable. He could not imagine why Rex should have cared to mix in the quarrel, and he was annoyed at not being able to settle matters with Bauer at once. His mind was still confused, when he pushed open the door of the room in which his companions were sitting. He was hailed by a chorus of joyful cries.
A couple of novices sprang forward to help him to remove his heavy overcoat. Another hastened to get his favourite drinking-cup filled with beer. The second in charge, a burly fellow with many scars on his face and a hand like a Westphalia ham, made a place for the chief next to his own.
‘We have had a row,’ Greif remarked when he was seated at the board and had drunk a health to all present.
‘Ha, that is a good thing!’ laughed the second. ‘Tell us all about it.’ He drank what remained in his huge measure and handed the mug to a fox to be filled. Then he took a good puff at his pipe and settled himself in an attitude of attention.