"Look out, friends, unless you want to get hurt!" Both tramps halted in a good deal of uncertainty.

They wanted to thrash this high school boy, but they didn't like the risk of having their heads hurt by flying stones.
Two splashes on the other side of the river heralded the fact that Dan and Harry had started to Greg's aid.

The instant they saw this, both men turned away from Greg, making a dash for the highway.
Laughing, young Holmes followed them up with all the missiles he had left.

Not one dropped further than three feet from the flying heels of the fugitives, yet not one struck either of the tramps or was meant to do so.
"Come across, you three fellows," laughed young Prescott, when the enemy had vanished in flight.

You've all earned your breakfast now, and you shall have it." "As for me," spoke Tom from the wagon, as he drove into the forest path, "I'm strong for putting on my clothes before I sit down to dally with food." Reade did not wait until he had driven the wagon where he and his friends could dress away from the view of people on the road.
"The cast-iron cheek of those scoundrels!" vented Dave Darrin indignantly.
"I rather think we are their debtors," smiled Dick quietly, as he drew his shirt over his head.
"You do!" demanded Darry incredulously.
"Yes; just think of all the zest they've put into our morning, and they didn't harm us, either." "But just think of what it would have been like if we hadn't stopped 'em!" gasped Danny Grin solemnly.