The bully glared like an enraged bull at me.
"I'll—"
Quaking in my boots, I made my eyes glare level with his.
"Listen to me, bo," I bluffed, "I ain't much on guff, and I don't want specially to fight ... but I'm waiter in this mess room and you don't pull anything like this here, unless you do it over my dead body."
"That's just what I will do ... I'll—I'll—" and the chap, pale with what seemed insane rage, started to his feet.
"Ah, sit down!" I commanded, marvelling at my nerve, and pushing him violently by the shoulders back on the bench ... then, deliberately, I turned my back, and walked away, expecting any moment to have him on me like a clawing wild cat.
With seeming calm and nonchalance I made the kitchen. With a semblance of outward serenity I picked up a rag and returned to wipe off the wall. I was vastly relieved to find that the bluff had worked.
The Canuck was finishing his meal in silence.
From that moment till the end of the voyage he was as quiet and Unobtrusive as anyone could wish him to be....