I dared him to sit there, with a patient in need of prompt attention less than two hundred yards away.

I called him names.

I guaranteed to write to the German government and the United States papers about him.

I told him I'd have his job if it cost me all my money and a lifetime's trouble.

He was just about ready to shoot--I'd just about got the red blood rising on his neck and ears--when along came the commandant--der Herr Capitain--the officer commanding Muanza--a swag-bellied ruffian with a beard and a beery look in his eye, but a voice like a man falling down three stories with all the fire-irons.
"'What do you want ?' he demanded in English, and I thanked him first for not having mistaken me for one of his own countrymen.