The unsteady and excitable fellow had been crowded to the rear by his comrades, who evidently wished to lessen, in some degree, the possibilities of a fight.
"Phwat's in thim rivers ye're spoutin' about?" asked one.
"Vater, ov course."
"Me wooden-shoed fri'nd, ye mane beer—beer."
"You insolt me, you red-headed——"
"Was that Dutchman addressin' of me?" demanded the half-drunken Irishman, trying to push by his friends.
"It'd be a foiner river if it wasn't yaller," said a peacemaker, holding his comrade.
In the slight scuffle which ensued one of the men unintentionally jostled the German. His pipe fell to the ground. He bent to recover it.
Through Colonel Pepper's whole being shot the lightning of his strange impulse, a tingling tremor ran over him; a thousand giants lifted and swung his arm. He fought to check it, but in vain. With his blood bursting, with his strength expending itself in one irresistible effort, with his soul expanding in fiendish, unholy glee he brought his powerful hand down upon the bending German.
There was a great shout of laughter.