There was something decidedly insolent both the tone and manner of the stranger.  But Benson, not quick at taking offense, inquired: 

“Are you a guest of this hotel.”

“None of your business,” came the rough retort.

“Oh!” said Jack.

“Did ye hear me say ye were sitting in my chair?”

“Yes.”

“Going to get up out of it?”

“Not until I know your rights in the matter,” replied Jack.  “You see, my board is paid in advance at this place.”

“Huh!” growled the other, sneeringly.  “Reckon ye don’t know much ’bout Dan Jaggers’s way of doin’ things.”

“Who on earth is Dan Jaggers?” demanded Benson, curiously.

“That’s me!  It’s my name,” rejoined the swagger.  “An’, sense ye’re so fresh—­”

Jaggers didn’t finish in words, but, taking a firm hold on the back of the chair, he suddenly pulled it out from under Benson.  So swiftly was the thing done that Jack went down on all fours on the porch.  But, thoroughly aroused, and his eyes flashing indignantly now, that boy was quickly on his feet.  Dan, however, with a satisfied grin, had dropped into the chair.

“Going to get up out of that, Jaggers?” challenged Jack Benson.

“Not as I know of,” rejoined Dan, with a broader grin.  “Why?”

“Because I’d hate to hit you while you’re sitting down,” replied Jack so quietly that his voice sounded almost mild.

“What’s that?” demanded Jaggers, with a guffaw of laughter.

“You heard what I said,” Jack insisted.  “You’d better get up.”

“Spoiling for a fight, are ye?” questioned the bully.

“Not at all,” Jack replied, still keeping his temper in check.  “I never go about looking for trouble.  I suppose you didn’t know any better than to do what you did.”

“What’s that?” scowled Dan Jaggers.

“If you want to apologize, and get out of the chair, I’ll let it go at that,” pursued Jack, coolly.

“Hey?” demanded Dan Jaggers, aghast. “Me—­apologize?”

He sprang up suddenly, resting a broad paw heavily on Jack’s shoulder.  But Benson, without flinching, or drawing back, returned the ugly look steadfastly.

“You’re behaving like a pretty poor grade of tough,” spoke Jack, in deep disgust.

“I am, hey?” roared Dan.  He drew back, aiming a heavy fist for Benson’s chest.  It was a mistake, as he quickly realized, for Jack Benson, from much practice in boxing, was as agile and slippery as a monkey and an eel combined.  Jack dodged, then came up under with a cleanly aimed though not hard blow on Jaggers’s chin.

“I’ll learn ye!” roared Dan, returning two ponderous blows in quick succession.  To his intense astonishment Jack wasn’t in the way of either blow, but came in with a neck blow on Jaggers’s left side that sent the bully reeling to the gravel beyond the porch.

“Come right down here!” challenged the bully, hoarsely.  “We’ll find out about this.”