"You and your noise annoy me when I'm trying to do a big afternoon's work." Snatching up his sombrero, Bad Pete vanished into a clump of brush.
Jack Rutter leaped up from his haven of safety, advancing swiftly to his cub assistant.
"Reade," he exclaimed, with ungrudging admiration, "you're the coolest young fellow I ever met, without exception.

But you're foolhardy, boy.

Bad Pete is a real shot.

One of these days, when you're just as cool, he'll fill you full of lead!" "If he does ?" retorted Tom, again bending over his transit, "and if I notice it, I'll throw a bigger stone at him than I did that time, and it'll land on him a few inches lower down." "But, boy, don't you understand that the days of David and Goliath are gone by," remonstrated Rutter.

"It's true you're turned the laugh on Pete, but that fellow won't forgive you.