"Come on!" said Big Jack brusquely to Sam. "You are the contract."
Another and an unexpected mutiny awaited them here. Sam very promptly arose from among his tins and turned on Big Jack. He had become as pale as Shand, but his eyes were hot enough. His lips were compressed to a thin line.
"Yes, I heard it!" he cried. "And a rotten, cowardly frame-up I call it! We never lacked for hospitality from her people. And this is the way you repay it. With your mouth full of talk about fair play, too. You make me sick!"
For an instant they stared at him flabbergasted. For the masters to be bearded by a humble grub-rider was incredible. Husky, the one most concerned, was the first to recover himself. Flushing darkly, he took a step toward Sam with clenched fists.
"Shut up, you cook!" he harshly cried. "It's none of your put! You stick to dish-washing and let your betters alone, if you know what's good for you!"
Sam's pale cheeks flamed and paled again. Instead of falling back, he took another step toward Husky.
"You can't shout me down, you bully," he said quietly in his face. "You know I'm right. And you all know it."
Husky towered over the slight figure.
"Get out," he roared, "before I smash you!"
"Go ahead!" said Sam, without budging. "I'm not afraid of you!"