“Hallo, soldier!” said Bob Roberts, as he saw Tom Long come up, looking very aggressive.
“Hallo, sailor boy!” said Tom Long, superciliously; and then they stood looking at each other, quite unconsciously like a couple of Malay game cocks in bamboo cages, on the afterpart of the sampan. These two pugnacious birds were evincing a strong desire for a regular duel; but as the bamboo bars of their cages prevented a near approach, they stood there ruffling their plumes, and staring hard in each other’s faces.
“Seems a strange thing that a man can’t come down to buy a little fruit and some flowers, without your watching him,” said Bob, at last.
“I wasn’t watching you, boy,” said Tom Long, superciliously. “There, spend your penny, my man, and go about your business.”
“Look here, my stuck-up red herring,” cried Bob, setting his teeth hard, “Captain Horton said that the naval officers were to set an example of gentlemanly behaviour before the natives, or I’ll be blowed, Mr Tom Long, if I wouldn’t punch your head.”
“Blowed—punch head,” sneered Tom Long; “that’s gentlemanly, certainly.”
“Look here,” said Bob, who was stung to the quick by the truth of this remark; “do you want to fight, Mr Tom Long?”
“Mr T. Long presents his compliments to the middy boy of the ‘Startler,’ and begs to inform him that when her Majesty’s officers fight, it is with some one worthy of their steel.”
“Ha, ha! Haw, haw! Ho, ho, ho!” laughed Bob, cutting a caper expressive of his great amusement. “Her Majesty’s officers—some one worthy of their steel. Ha, ha, ha, ha! I say, Tom Long, how happy and contented her Majesty must feel, knowing as she does that the gallant officer, Ensign Long, is always ready to draw his sword in her defence. Here, you stop! I got here first.”
“Sahib wants my beautiful fruit,” said one of the dark-faced men in the sampan, towards which Tom Long had stepped.