[Illustration: "The suspense became painful."]
"Who are you staring at?" demanded Master Nugent, at last.
"You," replied the other; "who are you staring at?"
"You," said Master Nugent, defiantly.
There was a long interval, both gentlemen experiencing some difficulty in
working up sufficient heat for the engagement.
"You hit me and see what you'll get," said Master Hardy, at length.
"You hit me," said the other.
"Cowardy, cowardy custard," chanted the well-bred Miss Nugent, "ate his
mother's mustard. Cowardy, cowardy cus--"
"Why don't you send that kid home?" demanded Master Hardy, eyeing the
fair songstress with strong disfavour.
"You leave my sister alone," said the other, giving him a light tap on
the shoulder. "There's your coward's blow."
Master Hardy made a ceremonious return. "There's yours," he said.
"Let's go behind the church."
His foe assented, and they proceeded in grave silence to a piece of grass
screened by trees, which stood between the church and the beach. Here
they removed their coats and rolled up their shirt-sleeves.
Pages:
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29