"I—I—am a codfish, am I?" roared Plum.
"You are, Gus Plum. You say things behind folks' backs and try to bully the little boys, and in reality you are no better than anybody else, if as good. You make me sick."
"I'll—I'll hammer you good for that!"
"All right, send me word when you are ready," retorted Buster.
In the meantime Dave was still standing over Nat Poole. Suddenly he caught the aristocratic youth by the ear and gave that member a twist.
"Ouch! Let go!" yelled Nat Poole. "Let go! Don't wring my ear off!"
"Will you apologize?" demanded Dave, and gave the ear a jerk that brought tears to Poole's eyes.
"I—I—oh, you'll have my ear off next! Oh, you wait—oh! oh! If I ever get—ouch!"
"Say you are sorry you said what you did to me," went on Dave, "or into the river you go!" And despite Poole's efforts, he dragged the aristo crat toward the edge of the dock.
"No! no! Oh, I say, Porter! Oh, my ear! I don't want to go into the river! I—I—I take it back—I guess I made a mistake. Oh, let me go!"
"You apologize, then?"
"Yes."
"Then get out, and after this behave yourself," said Dave, and gave Nat Poole a fling that sent
