taller."

"Of course I will fight him," Tom said. "I would fight him if he were
twice as big, if he called me a liar."

"Nonsense, young 'un!" another said, "it's not possible. He was wrong,
and if you had not struck him I would have licked him myself; but as
you have done so, you had better put up with a thrashing, and have
done with it."

"I should think so, indeed!" Tom said disdainfully. "I may get a
licking; I dare say I shall; but it won't be all on one side. Look
here, Mitcham, we will have it out to-morrow, on the ramparts behind
the barracks. But, if you will apologize to me for calling me a liar,
I'll say I am sorry I hit you."

"Oh, blow your sorrow!" the lad said. "I'll give you the heartiest
licking you ever had in your life, my young cock."

"Oh, all right," Tom said cheerfully. "We will see all about it when
the time comes."

As it was evident now that there was no way out of it, no one
interfered further in the matter. Quarrels in the army are always
settled by a fair fight, as at school; but several of the older men
questioned among themselves whether they ought to let this go on,
considering that Tom Scudamore was only between fifteen and sixteen,
while his opponent was two years older, and was so much heavier and
stronger. However, as it was plain that Tom would not take a thrashing
for the blow he had struck, and there did not seem any satisfactory