“And now he says I’m disagreeable!” cried Bob. “Well of all the chaps as ever I see you’re about the nastiest. Look here, do you want to fight? because if you do, we’ll just go ashore here and have it out.”
“I don’t want to fight indeed, Bob.”
“Yes, you do; you keep egging of me on, and saying disagreeable things as would have made some chaps give you one for yourself ever so long ago. Lookye here, only one on us can be captain in this here boat, and it is going to be either me or you. I don’t want to be, but I ain’t going to be quite jumped upon, so we’ll get ashore here, and soon see who it’s going to be.”
As Bob Dimsted spoke in a low snarling way, he gave his scull so hard a pull that he sent the boat’s head in toward the bank.
“First you want one thing, and then you want another, and then you try to make out that it was me who stole the boat.”
“I only said it wasn’t me.”
“There,” cried Bob, “hark at that! Why, who was it then?” Didn’t you take yer clothes off and swim over while I stood t’other side?
Dexter did not answer, but went on rowing with a hot feeling of anger rising in his breast.
“Oh, so now you’re sulky, are you? Very well, my lad, we’ll soon see to that. If you don’t know who’s best man, I’m going to show you. It’s dark, but it’s light enough for that, so come ashore and—”
Whish! rush! crash!