“Well, of all the impudence!” cried the young officer
hotly; and he took a step towards where Rodd was standing.
Rodd faced slowly round, looked at the boy superciliously, then said as coolly as could be—
“Hullo, midshipmite! Not gone below?”
“No, puppy, I have not gone below,” and as he spoke the lad pressed the hilt of his dirk involuntarily and sharply downward.
“Ha, ha!” laughed Rodd. “Why, that looks like wagging your tail like a moorhen. I say, why didn’t you draw that skewer just now? My word, you did look fierce!”
One of the marines tittered, and the other spread his mouth into a broad grin, while, convulsed with rage, the young officer turned upon both furiously, making them draw themselves up as stiff as their muskets.
“How dare you!” cried the middy, turning back to Rodd, and now becoming fully conscious of the fact that the schooner’s crew gathered forward were gazing at the scene with intense enjoyment.
“What’s the matter, reefer?” said Rodd, whose face was scarlet, but whose words sounded as cool and indifferent as if he were calm in the extreme.