Resting himself against it, he turned, and sweeping his eye over the assemblage, ordered every man in the room to walk up and take a drink with him, under penalties veiled in too terrific language to be wholly intelligible.

The violence of his invitation was apparently not quite necessary, as every man in the room pulled back his chair promptly and moved toward the bar, leaving Keith alone by the stove.

Mr.Bluffy had ordered drinks, when his casual glance fell on Keith standing quietly inside the circle of chairs on the other side of the stove.

He pushed his way unsteadily through the men clustered at the bar.
"Why in the -- -- don't you come up and do what I tell you?
Are you deaf ?" "No," said Keith, quietly; "but I'll get you to excuse me." "Excuse -- --! You aren't too good to drink with me, are you?
If you think you are, I'll show you pretty -- --d quick you ain't." Keith flushed.
"Drink with him," said two or three men in an undertone.

"Or take a cigar," said one, in a friendly aside.
"Thank you, I won't drink," said Keith, yet more gravely, his face paling a little, "and I don't care for a cigar." "Come on, Mr.Keith," called some one.
The name caught the young bully, and he faced Keith more directly.
"Keith ?--Keith!" he repeated, fastening his eyes on him with a cold glitter in them.