“I don’t think Bully will overlook anything for a day or two,” said Frank. “I landed on his right eye twice, anyhow. Nonsense, Billy! He’s tried for a cowardly revenge and he’s failed, and that closes up the incident. We’ll get back to Fardale to-morrow night if your mother doesn’t kill us with that chicken dinner she promised for to-morrow.”
“Yum!” and Clancy smacked his lips. “Billy, don’t say anything more about our going back to-night, or I’ll assassinate you! Wow! Your mother’s chicken dinners certainly do hit me in the right spot!”
“All right,” retorted Billy Mac. “But I’d bet you fifteen thousand dollars and a half that we hear from that crowd again!”
Merry flung the initialed hat into the street, and they went on their way. None of the three observed a shadowy form that followed them at a little distance, as if spying on their movements.
CHAPTER XIX.
FATHER AND SON.
Bully Carson, long after midnight, was still sitting over a washbowl in his room at home, bathing a startlingly black eye. It was a painful operation.
He was growling savagely to himself as he worked. There was a strong smell of arnica in the air, while his room was decorated with cigarette stubs and hastily discarded garments. These latter were calculated to be striking in appearance, and they were. When attired in all his glory, Bully Carson, as Billy Mac said, could be heard coming a full mile away.
Just at present he was attired only in his underwear, however, and in several bruises. He had been adorning these with arnica, but not with arnica alone, for ranged beside him were all manner of bottles.
At intervals of five minutes, Bully would anxiously pick up a hand mirror and examine his injured eye. It was something of a job, since he could only see out of the other one, and he gained little joy from it.