Gordon wished for a moment that he had not been so daring, but the next second his fighting--blood was up, as the other boy called imperiously: "Strike that flag!" Gordon could see his face now, for he was almost on him.

It was round and sunburnt, and the eyes were blue and clear and flashing with excitement.

His companion, who was cheering him on, was Ferdy Wickersham.
"Strike that flag, I say," called the oarsman.
"I won't.

Who are you?
Strike your own flag." "I am Norman Wentworth.

That's who I am, and if you don't take that flag down I will take it down for you, you little nigger-driving rebel." Gordon Keith was not a boy to neglect the amenities of the occasion.
"Come and try it then, will you, you nigger-stealing Yankees!" he called.