The others burst into a roar of laughter; and Braithwaite, who thought it an excellent joke, laughed the loudest of all.
The Angel, scenting mischief, laid hold of his chum's arm, saying,—
"Don't take any notice, Jim; it's only the 'Dandy' and his gang."
This was an unfortunate remark, as it would have been safer just then to wave a red flag before a bull than to mention Braithwaite's name to Jim. He was hot and tired and cross, angry with himself and the world in general, and with Braithwaite in particular. The incident of the morning had upset him, and this mocking laughter was, as Dick afterwards said, "the last straw that broke the camel's back."
"Want a hextry, sir? Take the last one!"
Simpson was fairly earning another bull's-eye.
Jim's face was white with passion as he strode over to the group, in the midst of which Braithwaite stood laughing. Blinded by anger, he did not stay to ask questions, but crying, "You beastly cad!" let out straight from the shoulder.
The Angel, though rather alarmed, could not resist the chance of a joke.
"That's a drop of hextry speshul claret!" he sang out, as the blood spurted from Braithwaite's nose.
Instantly there arose a babel of voices.