“Yes, sir, with fists. I suppose the rules of the service will not allow us to use such weapons as officers are accustomed to.”
“Do you mean officers like you?” I said contemptuously.
“Yes, sir; officers like me.”
“Oh, you mean knives and forks, then,” I said carelessly. “I say, Barkins, I didn’t think you could have been such a jerry sneak.”
He turned upon me with an apologetic look, but his lips began to bluster.
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Oh, nothing; I am not going to quarrel with old Barkins. He wouldn’t have done this, if it had not been for Blacksmith.”
“Go and obey the first lieutenant’s orders, sir,” said Smith haughtily. “We will talk to you later on.”
“You go and show Doctor Price your arms and legs,” I said contemptuously and spitefully; for, to use a common phrase, my monkey was up. “Fight? With fists? Where are your muscles? Why, I could upset you both with a swab.”
I hurried aft, and ran up the steps to the quarter-deck in time to encounter the first lieutenant, who was coming from the wheel with an angry look upon his face.