"Can't say I like that," interrupted Nat, his eyes beginning to flash. "A little timid, eh? I guess you don't know me very well yet, Piper."
"Well, then, we'll test that a bit—of course no offense intended. Now it seems to me—"
A groan came from Musgrove. Piper cast an angry look in his direction, and continued, "Now—just show me how much nerve you have. I can tell that old Yardsley said something about us—don't deny it. Really doesn't make any difference, but—"
Nat Wingate half arose. He felt that all eyes were upon him and to be even mildly accused of lack of courage made the hot blood mount to his face. "Do you think I'd lose my nerve on your account?" he exclaimed,—"not much!"
"Come—come, fellows!" expostulated Dave Brandon, quietly; "there is no need of any trouble."
"The idea of him talkin' like that, when Springate's been insulted," chuckled Musgrove, in a hoarse whisper. "This is as good as a circus. But Sniper can't scare Springate none no, sir—not he."
"Piper," spoke up Robson, at this juncture, "you made a mistake in letting Muzz come in, after his impudence the other day."
"My imperdence?" Billy rose excitedly. "My imperdence?" he repeated, furiously. "If that don't beat all! I like that—of all the sassy fellers I ever run acrost, Sniper, you're the wust." Musgrove leaned forward—the light revealed a face purple with rage. "But yer can't scare me, or me pal, Tim—no, sir!"
"And I won't stand fur no sass, neither," asserted Sladder, taking a stand by the side of his chum. "We ain't lookin' fur trouble, but when it comes, we kin handle an awful lot."
Piper glared for a moment at the two boys, then arose. "You will have precious little opportunity for handling any around here," he observed, "or for making any, either."