"Prescott, I'm going to begin by handling you in a way that'll make Darrin run." "Don't you believe it!" retorted Dave angrily.

"I may be killed, but I promise you that I won't run except to chase you, you ugly brute!" "We'll see!" chuckled the wretch.
With that he reached out for Dick, who was standing his ground.

Just then a lithe figure shot in between the boys and their promised assailant.
"Stand back, you hound!" ordered the newcomer angrily.

"This is a matter for men.

You and I will attend to each other!" "Old Dut!" breathed Dick Prescott in the intensity of his astonishment.
"Yes, it's I," announced the principal of the Central Grammar coolly.
"This is more in my line." Mr.Fits had been pushed back from the spot by the energetic fist of Mr.
E.Dutton Jones.