“What’s this mean!” he exclaimed hotly. “I’ll have you dubs pinched fer this!”
Clancy grinned.
“No, you won’t, Bully. You’re liable to get pinched yourself for what took place last night. Where’s Chip Merriwell?”
“How do I know?” demanded Carson, working himself up into a rage. “You’d better clear out, and do it quick, or I’ll smash your carrot head in about——”
“No more of that talk,” said Clancy. “You’re a coward, my friend. If you try fighting, you’ll get the worst of it by a good deal. Where’s Chip Merriwell?”
Clancy gave no sign of his inward perturbation. He had conducted this assault absolutely without evidence, and on a momentary impulse. If he failed to extract any information, he was apt to find himself up against the law.
“I don’t know anythin’ about him,” said Carson sullenly.
“Don’t lie,” said Clancy angrily. “You sent him a fake telegram that got him over to Orton this morning. Where is he?”
Carson went white.
“How’d you know that——” he began, then checked himself and tried to bluster it off. “You’re crazy, you boobs! I ain’t seen the feller——”