“You blooming Yankees, get right out of here,” were the astonishing words that greeted them. “Get, now. Do you understand, or do I have to make my meaning plainer?”
“Well, I’ll be double gash-jiggered!” exploded Percy Simmons.
CHAPTER XI.
RALPH INVESTIGATES THE EXPLOSION.
“What happened? What exploded?” demanded Ralph, ignoring the man’s manner purposely.
“I suppose you figure that it’s some of your bally business?” was the response, in loud, bullying tones. “We’ve not got much use for Yankees this side of the line, and you can put that in your pipe, smoke it and just dig out.”
Ralph’s anger began to rise. The tone in which the man spoke, his utter ignoring of their kindly purpose in coming ashore, and the scene they had just witnessed, all combined to put him in a ferment. Ralph didn’t often get angry, but when he did, like men said of his father in the financial district, he “made things hum.” His companions heard his jaws click in the well-remembered fashion.
“I asked you a proper question in a decent way, my man,” he said, in a quiet voice, controlling his anger with an effort.
“And I don’t choose to answer you. That’s enough, ain’t it? Now get!”
The tones were peremptory.
“Don’t move a step,” said Ralph to his companions. “This fellow has no business to order us about.”