“I haven’t spoken to any of you since I came in,” protested Somers. “I never had anything to do with you, and I don’t know whether you are gentlemen or not.”
“You hear that, gentlemen!” added the bully.
“I think I have said all that is necessary to say; with your leave I will go,” said Somers.
“Stop, sir!” snarled the young ruffian, putting his hand on the lieutenant’s collar.
“Take your hand off!” said he sternly.
The fellow complied.
“This thing has gone far enough, sir,” said Captain de Banyan, stepping between Somers and his assailant. “Lieutenant Somers is my friend; and, if you put the weight of your little finger upon him, I’ll annihilate you quicker than I did a certain Austrian field-marshal at the battle of Solferino. Gentlemen, permit me to apologize for my inexperienced friend if he has uttered any indiscreet word.”
“He must apologize!” blustered the young ruffian. “He says we are no gentlemen. Let him prove it.”
“You have proved it yourself, you little ape,” replied the captain, as he stepped up to the bar, and paid his reckoning, bestowing no more attention upon the ruffled little bully than if he had been a very small puppy; which perhaps he was not, by a strict construction of terms.
“I demand satisfaction!” roared the flashy little toper. “Apologize, or fight!”