"The cadets of this academy, Miss Adams," said he, "do not speak to Mr. Mallory. Mr. Mallory is a coward!"
It was a trying moment; Mark felt the blood surge to his head, his fingers twitched and his lip quivered. He longed to spring at the fellow's throat and fling him to the ground.
It was a natural impulse. Texas would have done it. But Mark controlled himself by the effort of his life. He clinched his hands behind him and bit his tongue, and when he spoke he was calm and emotionless.
"Miss Adams," he said, "Mr. Murray and I will settle that later."
The two girls stared in amazement, "Mr. Murray" gazed into space, and Mark turned without another word and strode over to where his friend was sitting.
"Texas!" he muttered, gripping him by the shoulder. "Texas, there's going to be a fight."
"Hey!" cried Texas, springing to his feet. "What's that? Whoop!"
CHAPTER XII.
THE EMBASSY OF THE PARSON.
"What's happened?" cried Texas, as soon as he'd managed to get calm enough to talk coherently. "What's happened?"