"I always thought you were a first-class coward," put in Phil. "Now I am
sure of it."
"This is none of your affair, Phil Lawrence!"
"I should think it was the affair of any person who wanted to see fair
play," answered the shipowner's son.
"Nat, you take your handkerchief and wipe off Mr. Potts's clothes," said
Dave, sternly.
"Eh?" queried the money-lender's son in dismay.
"You heard what I said. Go and do it, and be quick about it."
"I--er--I don't have to."
"Yes, you do. If you don't----" Dave ended by walking over to a barrel
and filling the syringe with the spraying fluid.
"Hi! don't you douse me with that!" yelled the other youth in alarm.
Then he started to run away, but the senator's son caught him by one arm
and Phil caught him by the other.
"You've got no right to hold me!"
"Well, we'll take the right," said Roger, calmly. "Now, Nat, do as Dave
told you."
There was no help for it, and with very bad grace the money-lender's son
drew from his pocket a silk handkerchief and removed what he could of
the fluid from Caspar Potts's clothing. Many spots remained.
"I am afraid the suit is ruined," said the aged professor, sorrowfully.
"Anyway, it will need a thorough cleaning."
"If it is ruined, Nat can pay for it," said Dave, firmly.
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