"I'll bet the smell of a little real powder would make your whole regiment run to cover." "Don't pay any attention to him," whispered the young corporal to Rob, who doubled up his fists and flushed angrily at the sneering tone Jack Curtiss' friend had adopted.
Rob restrained his anger with an effort, and by the time they emerged from the post office the trio of worthies--who, as Rob had rightly guessed, had been discussing them--had moved on up the street.
"I had trouble with those kids myself this afternoon," remarked Jack Curtiss with a scowl, as they wended their way toward a shed in the rear of Bill Bender's home, which had been fitted tip as a sort of clubroom.
"What did they do to you ?" incautiously inquired Sam Redding, a youth as big as the other two, but not so powerful.

In fact he was used more or less as a tool by them.
"Do to me," roared the bully, "what did I do to them, you mean." "Well what did you do to them then ?" asked Bill Bender, as they entered the clubroom before referred to and he produced some cigarettes, which all three had been strictly forbidden to smoke.
"Chased them off my land," rejoined the other, lighting a paper roll and blowing out a cloud of smoke, "you should have seen them run.

If they want to play their fool games they've got to do it on the property of folks who'll let them.

They can't come on my land." "You mean your father's, don't you ?" put in the unlucky Sam Redding.
"Sam, you've got a head like a billiard ball," retorted the bully, turning on the other, "it'll be mine some day, won't it?
Therefore it's as good as mine now." Although he didn't quite see the logic of the foregoing, Sam Redding gave a sage nod and agreed that his leader was right.
"Yes, those kids need a good lesson from somebody," chimed in Bill Bender.
"I think we had better be the 'somebodies' to give it to them," rejoined Jack Curtiss.

"They are getting insufferable.