“Oh, pshaw!” I said, mildly. “I don’t want to fight you, Mister. Thank didn’t intentionally get in your way, and I didn’t mean——”
“You struck me, you white livered——”
“I didn’t,” I denied. “You ran against me.”
“Don’t you give me no back talk,” snarled the fellow, but looking out watchfully for the officers now.
“Don’t be mad,” I said, with a smile. “I’m sorry if I hurt you——”
I guess that wasn’t a wise thing to say, although I did not mean to heap fuel on the flames of his wrath. He gave me a black look as he turned away, muttering:
“Wait till I git you a-tween decks, my lad. I’ll do for you!”
Thank and I looked at each other, and I guess my countenance expressed all the chagrin I felt, for my chum did not smile, as usual.
“You butted in for me, Sharp,” he said, gloomily, “and now that big bruiser will beat you up, as sure as shooting.”