“Like Brew Longley? N-no, not particularly. I don’t know him very well. I guess he’s all right, though. Why?”
“Well, he seems to have it in for me, don’t you know. He’s made a couple of—what do you call them, now?—a couple of ‘cracks’ that I didn’t like. I wondered whether he did it because he didn’t know any better or because he was just naturally a cad.”
“What sort of cracks?” asked Bert.
“Oh, he calls me ‘Royalty’ and things like that, and talks like a silly ass on the stage, if you know what I mean, and is really rather insolent. I fancy he tries to make fun of the way I talk, eh?”
“Oh, that’s nothing to get huffy about,” laughed Bert. “He probably thinks he’s being humorous. You see, Duke, you’re sort of a novelty to us. I guess Longley doesn’t know your sort.”
“That’s all right,” returned Hugh gravely. “But he mustn’t be too humorous or I’ll just have to punch his head.”
“He’d make one mouthful of you,” laughed Bert.
“Oh, well, I couldn’t help that. I’m not awfully thin-skinned, I fancy, but I don’t like Longley’s kind of humor. As the chap says in the song, ‘It isn’t what he says, it’s the nasty way he says it!’”
“Oh, don’t mind Brew, kid; he’s harmless. I guess he doesn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“Well, that’s all right. I certainly don’t want trouble, but I might lose my temper some day. He can’t expect me to stick it forever. There they go! Keyes is over! That right side of our line is a bit sketchy. They didn’t half fool Bowen then.”