CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE DEMAND.
In answer to the hail of the officer of the deck Barney Breslin had asserted that he had important letters for Scott Clemmons, and so had come on board.
His speaking to Bemis Perry and his rebuff, his cut by Decatur Knowles, and the fact that a score of middies took it into their heads to pass near him and make no acknowledgment of his existence, did not appear to distress him in the least.
“He has the gall of a book agent,” muttered a cadet, in reference to him.
“The cheek of a Chinese idol,” another remarked.
“I pity him that he has fallen so low,” Mark Merrill commented, for it did distress him to see one who had once had the same opportunity they all had of making a name for himself throw it away as he had done.
“Your heart is softer than your fist, Merrill,” Dillingham returned with a smile.
“Hard as you can hit, Merrill, I do not believe you could bruise that fellow’s cheek,” said Nazro.
Though not wishing to appear to watch his meeting with Clemmons, all eyes turned surreptitiously upon the two, and several who were nearest heard the very decidedly uttered words of the cadet midshipman as to why the disgraced youth had dared visit him aboard ship.