"And I stand by you in that refusal," said the emphatic gentleman. "It's an outrage that we must submit to the domination of foreigners."
"It's the order of the company," said the conductor. "First thing we know a wild Irishman comes along, he goes for that orange ribbon, there's a fight, the women are frightened, and perhaps the car is smashed."
"An' besides," said the deliberate driver as he tied up his reins and took off his gloves, "it's a darn sight easier an' cheaper for us to put you off than to keep an Irishman from tryin' to murder you."
The uncontaminated citizen and two ladies fled to the street, while the driver and the conductor stood over the offending passenger.
"Goin' to take off the ribbon?" asked the conductor.
"You will be guilty of a cowardly surrender of principle if you do," said the emphatic gentleman.
"May I suggest," said Arthur blandly, "that you wear it in his stead?"
"I am not interested either way," returned the emphatic one, with a snap of the terrible jaws, "but maintain that for the sake of principle——"
A long speech was cut off at that moment by a war-cry from a simple lad who had just entered the car, spied the ribbon, and launched himself like a catapult upon the Orange champion. A lively scramble followed, but the scene speedily resolved itself into its proper elements. The procession had passed, the car moved on its way, and the passengers through the rear door saw the simple lad grinding the ribbon in the dust with triumphant heel, while its late wearer flew toward the horizon pursued by an imaginary mob. Louis sat down and glared at the emphatic man.
"Who is he?" said Arthur with interest, drawing his breath with joy over the delights of this day.