“Brush yo’ off, suh?” the negro ventured, picking up a large whisk broom. “Okay, Sambo,” Panama agreed, good-naturedly. “Did you see the game to-day?” The old darky chuckled for a moment and then replied that he had, calling the soldiers’ attention to the faux pas made by Lefty. “That was some retreat that guy made, eh, Sambo?” the Marine on the bootblack stand added. “Say, I wouldn’t have a thing like that on my conscience for a million!” The negro’s lips parted in a broad smile, showing a mouth full of white teeth. “No, suh, dat’s one kind o’ dirt soap can’t wash off nohow!” Turning about to allow the Negro to brush the back of his blouse, Panama noticed the presence of another man in the room for the first time. “Did you see the game, pardner?” the Marine asked Lefty, not recognizing him. The boy moved uncomfortably in his seat, casting his eyes upon the advertisements on the wall and pretending not to have heard the soldier’s question. “I’m going out on the platform and look the femmes over,” the other Marine announced, jumping down from the stand and going toward the door. “See you later, Panama!” As Williams tipped the negro and reached for his hat, his attention was again centered upon Lefty. “I say, did you see the game to-day, friend?” Again there was no response save for Lefty’s moving away and the nervous twitching of his fingers. Panama was at peace with the world now, and in a keen mood for happy chiding. “You must be a Yale man that probably lost dough,” he heckled. “It’s all right, feller. Those things will happen—I lost five bucks myself—but it’s hard to believe that guy’s silly play was on the level. If you ask me, I think he got a piece of change from the Harvard crowd!” At these words, Lefty’s face became livid with rage. His play was stupid, he was aware of that, and he expected to be a source of ridicule for the entire world for the rest of his life, but accusing him of deliberately throwing the game was more than he could stand. He rose, glared at the unsuspecting sergeant for a moment, pulled off his coat and threw his hat on the floor, crossing the room to where Panama stood and confronted the man, to the utter amazement of the old negro. “You’re a liar!” he shrieked, “a dirty, contemptible liar! Take that back—take it back, or I’ll knock your block off!” Panama, still not realizing that he was face to face with the topic of his conversation, was somewhat amused over Lefty’s attitude, believing the boy’s motive to be one of school pride. “You’ll knock my block off?” “You heard me!” Lefty shot back, still eyeing his antagonist. “You and who else?” Lefty stepped back a little, ready to make a lunge at the soldier. “Just me, do you hear, just me! I’ve been sitting here taking all your dirty insults, and now you’re going to take ’em back!”