“It’ll tell you when I’ve done with the Gnat,” said Smith angrily; for I had unintentionally hurt his arm. “Now you, Skeeter.”
“Let him alone,” said Barkins gruffly.
“When I’ve done with him,” said Smith; “you could have had first go at him if you had liked.”
“I don’t want to hit the little fellow, I’m not overbearing like you are. Let him alone, I say.”
“I shall let him alone when I choose,” retorted Smith fiercely. “I’m not going to let our junior ride roughshod over me, if you’re fool enough to.”
“I shall be fool enough to kick you out of the cabin if you touch him,” cried Barkins angrily. “I won’t have him bullied; and it was a mean sneaking thing to go telling tales as you did to old Dishy.”
“Look here,” cried Smith, “if any one is a sneak it’s you, for harking back and taking the miserable little beggar’s side.”
“Never mind about that; you let him alone.”
“Oh, I say, Tanner,” I said, “don’t quarrel with him about me. What he said did no harm. Mr Reardon was as friendly as could be.”
“That’s a cracker,” cried Smith sharply.