"You're another of the same breed, are you?" Tunis demanded. "You'll
beg her pardon, too, or I'll crack the heads of the two of you
together! Come!"
He stood the man on his feet before the waitress with such force
that his teeth rattled. He stooped and yanked the other to an
upright posture likewise. The shrinking girl, Tunis noticed, was not
weeping. She looked at all he did as though she approved. The other
girls were shrieking. The cashier had run to the door and cried into
the street for the police. But that violet-eyed girl, timid as she
naturally was, did not open her lips.
"She's a plucky little lady," thought Tunis Latham. "But somebody's
got to stand up for her."
CHAPTER VIII
SHEILA
The captain of the _Seamew_ held the two struggling, cursing men as
though they were small boys. His eyes flamed a question at the girl.
She understood and nodded, if ever so faintly.
"I ought to send both of you to the hospital," said Tunis in a grim
voice. "But I'm satisfied if you beg her pardon and let her go."
This to the restaurant proprietor.
The man opened his lips to emit something besides an apology,
although the smaller man was already quelled. But the look in Tunis
Latham's face made the black-haired man pause.
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