“I’m taller than most of these Cubans. You’ll have to put me at the head of your company,” he said.
“No,” said Appleby dryly. “We are leaving a handful of men behind us to hold the hacienda, and I mean you to stay with them.”
Tony laughed a clear, ringing laugh. “Did you think for a moment that I would? Now, you will gain nothing by insisting, and you don’t command. If I can’t get your permission I’ll get Maccario’s.”
“There is very grim work on hand, and the rest are more fitted for it than you.”
Tony turned with a trace of stiffness which became him. “There was a time when you apparently took pleasure in pointing out my slackness, Bernard,” he said. “Still, while I’m willing to admit it, I think it’s moral,—and not physical.”
“Of course!”
Tony’s face relaxed, and he laughed. “That’s devilishly complimentary—but I’m coming. I’ve never been in a fight, and the sensation will be a pleasant novelty, but there’s something else. You see, it may happen that one of us gets hurt.”
“It is, I believe, quite likely.”
“Well,” said Tony very quietly, “that is just why I’m coming. I don’t wish to be uncivil—but while Maccario’s willing I think it’s evident that you can’t stop me.”
Appleby looked at him a moment with a curious softness in his eyes, and then made a little gesture of resignation, while Maccario, who opened the door quietly, smiled as he glanced at them.