Max slowly gathered himself up from the ground, with a hand on his jaw, and a vicious glitter in his eyes.
“It will be to the finish next time.”
His tone was full of menace.
“What’s he saying?” inquired Billy.
Henri translated.
“Tell him,” said Billy, “that the day and the hour is his very own to name, so long as he comes in the front way.”
Henri did not comply with this request, but hooked arms with Billy, and walked him away.
This was the glove in the ring that led to one of the liveliest lightweight come-togethers that the aviation camp boys had ever witnessed.
Neither Henri nor Billy had mentioned the wrench incident to the lieutenant. They were too self-reliant for that kind of business. There was nothing, either, to induce Max to relate his sorry part in the hangar scrap.
It was not until several days later that Henri was approached by a lad with the name handle of Jacob. The latter was apparently not a willing messenger.