But now the brute came back, cautiously, crouching and leering.
"Who are you, anyway!" demanded Mr.Fits.
"Oh, I'm one of the town's schoolmasters," replied Old Dut dryly.

"As for you, I imagine you're that doubtful celebrity, Mr.Fits--otherwise a thief." "Get out of this!" warned the rascal darkly.

"This is no place for schoolmasters." "On the contrary," retorted Old Dut, as coolly as before, "this is just the proper place for me, for I've appointed myself to teach you a lesson, my man.

Throw off your overcoat, I don't want to take you unfairly." As Old Dut spoke he "shucked" his own coat, tossing it to the curb.
"Wait, Mr.Jones, and we'll get a policeman," urged Dick.
"Wait and see how badly I'm going to need one," returned the schoolmaster.
"This affair is none of your business," growled Mr.Fits.
"Yes, it is!" insisted the principal of Central Grammar.

"You were going to attack two of my boys.