They looked around and saw Bertrand, his face flushed and his eyes sparkling. Harry leaned back lazily, but St. Clair spoke up quickly.
"We've been having conversations off and on with the enemy for two years," he said. "We've had some mighty hot talks with bullets and cannon balls, and some not so hot with words. Just now we were having one of the class labelled 'not so hot.'"
"What's the matter with you Johnnies?" was called across. "You've broken off the talk just when it was getting interesting. Are you going to back out on that bet? We thought you had better manners. We know you have."
"You're right, we have," said St. Clair, shouting across the stream, "but we were interrupted by a man who hasn't."
"Oh, is that so?" was called back. "If you've troubles of your own, we won't interfere. We'll just look on."
Bertrand was pallid with rage.
"I'm a captain in the Invincibles, Mr. St. Clair," he said, "and you're only a lieutenant. You'll return to your regiment at once and prepare a written apology to me for the words that you've just used to those Yankees."
"Oh, no, I won't do either," drawled St. Clair purposely. "It is true that a captain outranks a lieutenant, but you're a company commander and I'm a staff officer. I take no orders from you."
"Nevertheless you have insulted me, and there is another and perhaps better way to settle it."
He significantly touched the hilt of his sword.