"When I last saw him," continued the major, in the tone of Griffith describing the last hours of Wolsey—
"Well?" ejaculated all in one voice.
"He was buying seed-corn."
Degradation could no lower go, and in the pause they could hear the blue fly buzz in the window-pane.
Mason had beckoned Payne aside. The two found that reply a hard nut to crack. Payne had regarded the duel as a huge hoax, and counted on easily bluffing the burgher's second. But bluffing those steely nerves yonder, that stood at ease with a suggestion of military accoutrements, was not to be thought of. Nor could his principal go out, under the pretext of controlling the associations of Walter Brown's family, without Walter Brown's approval.
"For proper reasons, no doubt," said Payne courteously, "your principal ignores what is, with us, the gravamen of his offence—his behavior in the house of Mr. Mason's relations."
Pretty well covered for Mr. Payne, but it would not do.
"Don't want to ignore anything," said Deane Lee. "Just don't want petticoats mixed up in it. My man does not pledge worth a—pyrotechnic." He had got it in at last, and with a step—a peremptory refusal to submit to dictation of any kind.
Payne felt outmanœuvred and crowded. He saw Bob Nettles was not to be bullied out of little Sue, and they must give up that point. "My principal is disposed to waive that part," said Payne haughtily, "rather than involve others."
"All right!" said Deane carelessly. "It's not in the regulations—but come to taps. We want this thing over before reveille. I've got an infernal mule-team to yank up and down these streets after that."