“Oh, rot! I’m not going to fight that kid, Logan. He’s too small. Tell him to forget it. And look here, you!” Star’s voice took on an edge. “I want you to quit meddling in my affairs, too, Logan. I know what you’ve been up to. You and that roommate of yours are altogether too fresh.”
“Me?” asked Jimmy innocently. “What have I done, Meyer?”
“You’ve talked a whole lot too much, that’s what you’ve done. And you’ve egged Baker on to—to make trouble. I want you to stop it, both of you.”
“Well, I may have talked some,” Jimmy allowed calmly. “Everyone has a right to talk——”
“If they’re careful what they say, yes! But——”
“Anyway, that isn’t what I came to see you about. I’ve talked it over with Dud and we’ve concluded that you ought to give him satisfaction. You see, Meyer, slapping a fellow’s face and then refusing to go on with it looks—well, a bit funny, eh? Now what we propose is that you and Dud meet, say tomorrow afternoon at half-past five, down at the Beach, and settle the matter in a quiet, gentlemanly way. What do you say to that?”
“I say no,” replied Star shortly. “I haven’t any intention of fighting him. All I will do is slap his face again if he doesn’t let me alone. He’s been telling it around—or you have—that I’m afraid of him!”
“Um,” said Jimmy thoughtfully. “Well—er—if you don’t fight him won’t it look as if he was right?”
Star flushed angrily. “Don’t be a fool, Logan! I’d take the two of you on and lick the tar out of you if it wasn’t beneath me!”