"Is it?" said Mr. Truefitt. He made a funnel of both hands and bent to the old man's willing ear.
"You're an artful, interfering, prying, inquisitive old busybody," he bellowed. "Can you hear that?"
"Say it again," said the captain, his old eyes snapping.
Mr. Truefitt complied.
"I didn't quite catch the last word," said the captain.
"Busybody!" yelled Mr. Truefitt. "Busybody! B—u—s——"
"I heard," said Captain Sellers, with sudden and alarming dignity. "Take your coat off."
"Get out of my garden," responded Mr. Truefitt, briefly.
"Take your coat off," repeated Captain Sellers, sternly. He removed his own after a little trouble, and rolling back his shirt sleeves stood regarding with some pride a pair of yellow, skinny old arms. Then he clenched his fists, and, with an agility astonishing in a man of his years, indulged in a series of galvanic little hops in front of the astounded Peter Truefitt.
"Put your hands up!" he screamed. "Put 'em up, you tailor's dummy! Put 'em up, you Dutchman!"