"Say, you don't put nothing like that over on me!" exclaimed the man
loudly.
Tunis moved in his chair. He saw the black-haired man at the front
of the restaurant swing about to face down the room. He had heard
this unseemly disturbance.
"I will call the manager."
"And so will I--I'll call him good!" sneered the patron. "He knows
that you crooks in here over-charge. He puts you up to it. That's
why he hires jailbirds and--"
Tunis had got up, pushed back his chair with his foot, and as the
girl uttered a horrified gasp at the rough speech, he seized the
man. His grip on the back of the fellow's coat between his shoulders
brought a startled grunt from lips parted to continue his
blackguardism.
"Hey! What d'ye mean?" roared the fellow, as Tunis twisted him into
the aisle.
"You dog!" said the captain of the _Seamew_ in a low voice. "Down on
your knees and ask the lady's pardon for that speech!"
The black-haired man started toward them. His coarse face had a
smile on it as vicious as the snarl of a tiger. He put up his hand
in a gesture of command.
"Beg her pardon!" repeated Tunis, and by the great weight of his
hand crushed the squalling patron of the restaurant to his knees
before the terrified girl.
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