“Shame! shame!” cried Terry, loudly, and there was a roar of laughter. “Look here, Roy, I won’t have it; it’s too bad. Not hurt, are you, Belton?”
“No,” said Syd, turning and looking him full in the face; “only a little to find you should think me such a fool as not to know you pushed me.”
“I? Come, young fellow, you’ll have to learn manners.”
He moved threateningly toward Syd, but the latter did not heed him, for his attention was taken up by what was going on at the table, for one of the lads cried out—
“Any one want a new hat? Too big for me.”
“Let me try.”
“No; pass it here.”
“Get out, I want one most.”
There was a roar of laughter, and Syd bit his lip as he saw his new hat snatched about from one to the other, and tried on in all sorts of ways, back front, amidships, over the eyes, over the ears, and it was by no means improved when the new hand snatched it back and turned to face Terry.
“Look here, sir,” said the latter, haughtily; “you had the insolence to accuse me of having pushed you.”