I dare to say anything that comes up my darned back, you bet.

I'm not going to knuckle down to a yellow-stomach--" Out flew Don Pedro's long arm, and Hervey slammed against the wall.

He slipped his hand around to his hip pocket with an ugly smile, but before he could use the revolver he produced, Hope dashed up his arm, and the ball went through the ceiling.

"Lucy!" cried the young man, knowing that the drawing-room was overhead, and in a moment was out of the door, racing up the stairs at top speed.

Some sense of shame seemed to overpower Hervey as he thought that he might have shot the girl, and he replaced the revolver in his pocket with a shrug.
"I climb down and apologize," he said to Don Pedro, who bowed gravely.
"Hang you, sir; you might have shot my daughter," cried Braddock.