like a Spanish matador, allowed his foe to expend his wrath on the bulkhead of the cabin.
"You'll go through it next time, Stumps, if you plunge like that," said Jeff, who had watched the fight with lively interest, and had encouraged the combatants with sundry marks of applause, besides giving them much gratuitous advice.
Regardless alike of encouragement and advice, the angry youth turned round once more and received a buffet that sent him sprawling on the table, off which he fell and rolled under it. There he lay and panted.
"Now, my sweet polypus," said the victor, going down on one knee and patting the vanquished on his shoulder, "next time you feels tempted to kick a gentleman—specially a electrician—at his dewotions, think of Jim Slagg an' restrain yourself. I bear you no ill-will however—so, good-night."
Saying this, Robin's champion left the room and Stumps retired to his berth growling.
Before passing from this subject, we may add that, the next night, Robin—whose owner was still absent—was again hospitably invited to share the cabin of his friend and protector. When about to retire to rest he considered whether it was advisable to risk the repetition of the scene of the previous night, and, although not quite easy in his conscience about it, came to the conclusion that it would be
