"Sit down," said Mark, laughing in spite of himself. "Sit down and stop your dancing. Everybody in the place is staring at you."
Texas sat, and then Mark described to him just what had happened. As might have been expected, he was up in arms in a moment.
"Where is that feller? Now, look a 'yere, Mark, leggo me. Thar he goes! Say, if I don't git him by the neck an'——"
The excitable youth was quieted after some ten minutes' work or so, and immediate danger was over.
"And now," said Mark, "where's the Parson?"
"Over in library," responded the other, "a fossilizin'. What do you want with him?"
"You be good," said Mark, "and I'll let you see. Come on."
They found the Parson as Texas had said, and they managed to separate him from the books and drag him over to barracks. Then Mark, who by this time had recovered his usual easy good-nature, told of "Mr. Murray's" insult again.
"Now, I haven't the least objection," he continued, "of being sent to Coventry. In fact, so long as it means the cadets' leaving me alone, I rather like the idea. But I don't propose to stand a thing like that which just happened for a moment. So there's got to be a fight, and if they won't let me, I'll have to make 'em, that's all."
"Um," said the Parson, looking grave. "Um."