“We’ve got as much right here as you have,” went on Ned.
“No, you haven’t.”
“I say we have. Mr. Bender’s no relation of yours.”
“I didn’t say he was.”
“But you act so,” said Bart, “standing guard on his property.”
“I may be standing guard, but I’m not working for Mr. Bender,” Sandy answered. “I tell you that you can’t go past, and you’d better not try it. I’ve got a right for what I say, and you’ll find out if you try to cross.”
“Do you mean to say you’d shoot us?” asked Frank suddenly.
“Well—er—I—You haven’t any right here and I order you off!” exclaimed Sandy, getting rather tangled up.
“You can’t order me off!” exclaimed Frank. “I’m going to cross this clearing. If you point that gun at me, Sandy Merton, I’ll lick you so hard you can’t stand up for a week,” and he started forward.
“Don’t get rash,” counseled Bart in a low voice. “No use looking for trouble. We’ll let the mean little cub alone. I guess there are flowers somewhere else.”