In Stormy’s state of inebriety there was but little danger to be dreaded from any personal conflict with him, for although he was still able to keep his feet, his legs had reached a degree of drunkenness, that caused him occasionally to reel and stagger over the floor of the bar-room.
The ruffian, perfectly conscious of all this, made some slurring remark—intended to reflect upon Stormy’s condition, and loud enough for the latter to hear it.
As might have been expected, the old sailor did not take the slur in good part; but in return poured forth his displeasure in his usual frank and energetic manner.
Stormy, when excited by drink, was somewhat extravagant in the use of vituperative language; and there can be no doubt that the bully was compelled to listen to some plain-speaking that he did not much relish.
He submitted to the storm for a while; and then rushing upon Stormy, he struck the old sailor a slap with his open hand.
Stormy, of course, returned the blow with closed fists, and then proceeded to defend himself, by throwing his body, as well as its intoxicated legs would allow him, into a boxing attitude.
But the bully had no intention to continue the fight in that cowardly fashion—as he would have called it; and drawing his bowie-knife out of his boot, he closed suddenly upon Stormy, and buried its blade in the old sailors side.
Of course this terminated the strife; and the wounded man was conveyed to his lodgings.