But the companion, feeling a trembling, unsteady hand upon his arm,
turned about and met young Utie's desperate face. "I want to know the
name of that fellow!" said Utie.

"That is Charles Dibdo," said the naval companion, "lieutenant of the
United States frigate Fox, and I recommend you, my boy, to address
_him_ in a civil tone. For me, I never mind a drunken man."

Thoroughly demonized now, young Robert Utie turned blindly about for
some implement of revenge. He found it in Tiltock, a fellow-clerk, a
novitiate and a ninny, who was visible in the crowd.

"Tiltock, are you a man of honor?"

"I hope so, Bob."

"Can you carry a challenge?"

"Oh yes! I guess so, to 'blige a ole friend."

"Can you write it?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Then take it by word of mouth. That scoundrel there, Lieutenant
Dibdo, has insulted a lady, and me too. I must have his blood. Follow
him up, and meet me at Gadsby's with his answer."

Full of self-importance at this first and safe opportunity to stand
upon what is known as "the field of honor," Tiltock kept the