Ace glared at me defiantly.
"Can you fight ?" he asked.
"I do' know," I was obliged to answer.
"Then you can't," said Ace, with bitter contempt.

"I can lick you with one hand tied behind me!" He drew back his fist as if to strike me, and I wonder that I did not run from the cabin and jump ashore, but I stood my ground, more from stupor and what we Dutch call dumbness than anything else.

Ace let his fist fall and looked me over with more respect.

He was a slender boy, hard as a whip-lash, wiry and dark.

He was no taller than I, and not so heavy; but he had come to have brass and confidence from the life he lived.