“Porton, you can bluster all you please, but it won’t do you any good,” answered Dave, and his voice had a more positive ring to it than before. “You thought you could play this trick on me and get away with it, but I am going to show you it can’t be done. I am going to hand you over to the authorities and see that you go to jail.”
“If you think you can do that, Porter, you’ve got another guess coming. You clear out and let me alone or I’ll make it hot for you;” and Ward Porton shook his fist in Dave’s face.
The manner of the young man who had been obtaining goods in Dave’s name was so aggressive that many a youth would have been intimidated and inclined to withdraw. But that was not our hero’s way. He was righteously indignant, not only because of what the rascal before him had done, but also because of his present threat. Without more ado he seized hold of Porton’s upraised arm and backed the fellow against a tree.
He seized Porton’s upraised arm and backed the fellow against a tree.––Page 70.
“Now, you just listen to me,” he said sternly. “Your bluff and bluster won’t do you any good. I am going to hand you over to the authorities, and that is all there is to it. You’ve got to behave 71 yourself and stop threatening me, or I’ll give you something that you won’t want.”
“You imp, you! Let go of me!” roared Porton, and, bringing around his disengaged hand, he struck Dave a glancing blow on the chin.
If anything more was needed to arouse our hero’s just ire, this blow proved more than sufficient. As much anger as he had ever felt in his life surged up in Dave’s heart. He drew back, letting go his hold––and the next instant his fist shot out and landed straight on Ward Porton’s nose.
“Ouch!” spluttered the former moving-picture actor, and not without reason, for the stinging blow our hero had delivered not only hurt exceedingly, but also caused the blood to flow.