“He says ‘let me!’” burst out Randy quickly. “So go to it, Most Potent Sower of the Ancient and Honorable Order of Cornmeal! Go to it, I say!”
And thereupon without further ado Randy overturned the paper bag he held in his hand and there descended upon Codfish several pounds of finely-ground meal which the lads had purchased in town a day or two before.
“Hi! Hi! What’s this? You let me go!” cried Codfish, and then began to splutter as the dry cornmeal got into his mouth and nose.
“My, Codfish, you’d make a regular muffin now,” declared Andy, as the whitened youth struggled to his feet.
“Give us a song, Codfish.”
“Make it a regular corncake hoedown,” put in Randy.
“You let me go!” shrieked Codfish, and then in commingled rage and fear he suddenly caught up a long firebrand from the bonfire and whirled it around rapidly before him.
“Get out of my way—all of you!” he screamed, and the next minute made a movement as if to dash the firebrand directly into Randy’s face.