“You—you!” began Noddy, but rage seemed to choke him, and with scowling face he mounted his wheel and rode slowly away. “You just wait!” he shouted back, shaking his head at the three boys.
[CHAPTER II.]
A MEAN PLOT.
“Well,” began Bob, when the three chums were ready to proceed on their way, Ned having been brushed off, “I’d like to have Noddy for a close friend, I don’t think! Wonder what makes him so mean?”
“Born so, I s’pose,” grunted Ned. “Any one else would have laughed over such an accident. He seemed to think I did it on purpose.”
“He talks as though he did,” ventured Jerry. “I wonder what he’ll do to get square?”
“Oh something sneaking, you may depend on it,” replied Bob. “That’s the way with Noddy and his kind. He’s nothing but a big bully. Never fights with any one but some one he’s sure he can whip. I don’t know’s I could lick him, but I’d like to try once.”
“Me too,” said Ned, “after I get over being stiff.”
When Jack Pender, who was a toady of Noddy Nixon, called on the latter in a sort of club-house in Nixon’s yard that night, he found the bully in no amiable frame of mind.