“Serdholm, you’re drunk,” said Helga contemptuously. “And you’re making a fool of yourself.”
“An you’ll report me at the station, hey? Just becuz you was washed ashore here you think you own Montauk! Well, report an’ be——!”
“That will do!” said Colton.
“Will it? Come up here and make it!” taunted Serdholm. “No? All right, I’ll come down.” Colton met him halfway. It was no fight; for though Serdholm was brawny the young physician was as greatly his superior in strength as in science and condition. The coast-guard rolled to the bottom of the gully and lay there cursing feebly.
“He will lose his place for this,” said Helga as they went shoreward. “I hope he will, the beast!”
“Do you suppose he really thrashed the juggler, or was that only boasting?”
“He has the reputation of being quarrelsome when he has been drinking,” said Helga.
“Haynes ought to know about it, then.”
“I’ll tell him. But, please, Dr. Colton, say nothing about Serdholm’s rudeness. It would only make Petit Père angry, and cause trouble, and I’ve felt some danger overhanging him. Dr. Colton, do you believe in dreams?”
“We men whose business it is to deal with the human body, get to realise how much of mystery there is in the human soul,” said Dick. “Is that an answer?”