“You can bet that he doesn’t do any more talking than he can help,” replied Joe. “And, for that matter, I suppose there are a good many thousand stutterers in the United States. Almost every town has one or more. Of course it’s against him, but it doesn’t by any means make it a sure thing that he’ll be nabbed.”
Buck Looker and his cronies happened to pass them in the yard just at that moment and caught the last word. Buck whispered something to Carl Lutz, and the latter broke out into uproarious laughter.
It was so obviously directed against Joe that his impulsive temper took fire at once. He stepped up to the trio, despite Bob’s outstretched hand that tried to restrain him.
“Were you fellows laughing at me?” he asked of the three, though his eyes were fastened directly on Buck’s.
“Not especially at you,” returned Buck insolently. “But at something you said.”
“And what was that?” asked Joe, coming a step nearer, at which Buck stepped back a trifle.
“About getting nabbed,” he said. “It made me think of some fellows I know that were nabbed last night for breaking windows.”
“Oh, that was it!” remarked Joe, with dangerous calmness while his fist clenched. “Now let me tell you what it reminds me of. It makes me think of three cowards who smashed a window last night with a stone packed in a snowball and then ran away as fast as their legs could carry them. Perhaps you’d like me to tell you their names?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” retorted Buck, changing color.
“Oh, yes, you do,” replied Joe. “And while I’m about it, I’ll add that the fellows who smashed the window were not only cowards, but worse. And their names are Buck Looker, Carl Lutz and Terry Mooney.”