“Look here, Eliot,” said Bern, “I want to know what you mean to do. I want an immediate understanding.”
“What is it, Bern?” asked Roger. “What are you talking about?”
“About that son of a stripe wearer, Stone. Are you going to attempt to ram him down my throat?”
“Not at all. If you fancy you have any just reason for not wishing to be friendly with Stone, that’s your business, and I’m not going to dip into the affair.”
“Fancy!” grated Hayden resentfully. “There’s no fancy about it. Friendly with him—friendly with such a low-bred, worthless cur? To suggest friendship between us is an insult to me.”
“I have no wish to insult you, old fellow. Doubtless you believe you have honest reasons for your dislike toward Stone. Nevertheless, it’s a fact that many persons hate others from no just cause.”
“You’re insinuating that I’m unjust and dishonest in this matter. Doubtless Stone has told you a clever lie, and now simply because he defended your sister when she was attacked by Fletcher’s dogs you’re ready to take sides with him against me.”
“I don’t propose to take sides at all unless compelled to do so.”
“You’ve done so already.”
“How?”