“What of it? Wouldn’t you have struck him if he’d called you all sorts of names, like that? I’ll say you would! You’re always strong on the ‘calm yourself’ stuff, but I notice that when any one gets fresh with you—”
“I don’t pick quarrels and slug fellows right under the eyes of faculty, you idiot! For that matter—”
“Oh, forget it!” growled Laurie. “What difference does it make where you do it? You give me a pain!”
“You give me worse than that,” replied Ned angrily. “You look like—like a prize-fighter with that lump on your cheek. It’s a blamed shame he didn’t finish the job, I say!”
“Is that so? Maybe you’d like to finish it for him, eh? If you think you would, just say so!”
Ned shrugged contemptuously. “Guess you’ve had enough for one day,” he sneered. “Take my advice and—”
“Your advice!” cried Laurie shrilly. “Your advice! Yes, I’m likely to, you poor shrimp!” He jumped to his feet and glared at Ned invitingly. “You make me sick, Ned, you and your advice. Get it? You haven’t got enough spunk to resent a whack on the nose!”
“Oh, don’t shout like a cheap skate,” answered Ned disgustedly. “Go and fix yourself up, if you can, so I won’t be ashamed to go to supper with you!”
Laurie glared, swallowed hard, and finally nodded. “Listen,” he said slowly. “You don’t have to be seen with me if it offends your delicate sensibilities. Get it? And, what’s more, I don’t want to be seen with you. I’m particular, too, you big bluff. When you want to go to supper, you go!”
Laurie grabbed wash-cloth and towel, strode across the room, and slammed the door resoundingly behind him. Left alone, Ned shrugged angrily. “Ugly-tempered brute,” he muttered.