“I should like to catch you at it,” said Aleck. “If I shut the door how am I to see to hit you on the nose?”
“You hit me on the nose? Ha, ha!” cried the middy. “Why, I shall have you calling out that you’ve had enough long before you get there.”
“We shall see,” said Aleck. “Don’t you think that you’re going to frighten me with a lot of bounce. Now, then, are you ready?”
“Yes, I’m ready enough. I’ll show you whether I’m a coward or not. Here, hold out your hand.”
“What for?”
“To shake hands, of course, and show that we mean fair play.”
“I never stopped for that when I had a fight with the Rockabie boys, but there you are.”
Hands were grasped, and the midshipman was about to withdraw his, but it was held tightly, and somehow or another his own fingers began to respond in a tight clench.
And thus they stood for quite a minute, while some subtle fluid like common-sense in a gaseous form seemed to run up their arms through their shoulders, and then divide, for part to feed their brains and the other part to make their hearts beat more calmly.
At last Aleck spoke.