“Or what?” demanded the other, thrusting his face close to Hugh’s. “What will you do, kid? Go on, tell me! What’ll you do? Prick me with a hatpin?”
“Oh, let him alone, Brew,” interposed Bowen, who had so far observed proceedings with amusement. “We don’t want any international complications.” He winked at Hugh. “Don’t want the British navy over here blowing us up!”
“The British navy couldn’t blow a bubble up,” jeered Longley. “Britishers are all bluff. Get that, Ordway? Just bluff and—and swank! You wouldn’t hurt a——”
“Take your face away from me,” interrupted Hugh. “I don’t like it. It’s beastly unattractive.”
“Unattractive!” sputtered Longley. “Unat—why, you poor cockney huckster, I’ve a good mind to punch your silly nose!”
“Try it!” said Hugh quietly.
Longley accepted the invitation, but Bowen jumped in and seized the back-drawn arm. “Cut it out, Brew! You can’t fight here! Come on along!”
“Can’t I?” demanded Longley, struggling to get his arm away. “I’ll show you whether I can or not! He can’t call me names and get away with it! I’ll—I’ll——”
“I’m ready to fight you wherever you say,” declared Hugh eagerly. “And if you aren’t a coward you’ll fight, too.”
“Better not, Ordway,” cautioned Peet nervously, for once forgetting to giggle. “He—he can lick you, I guess.”