Boiling with inward rage, they slowly and sullenly handed over the contents of their pockets. None of them had any great amount of money—only a few dollars for spending allowance. But taken altogether it made quite a respectable sum, over which the robbers gloated with evident satisfaction. Probably their chief calculation was the amount of liquor it would buy for their spree.
But even with this the thieves were not content. Bobby’s silver watch, a scarf pin of Mouser’s, Fred’s seal ring and Pee Wee’s gold sleeve buttons went to swell the pile. They even carried their meanness so far as to rob the lads of their railroad tickets. Then when they found that there was nothing else worth the plucking, the leader opened the door.
“Now beat it,” he growled, “and thank your lucky stars that we didn’t swipe your clothes.”
Half blinded with wrath, the crestfallen boys climbed out of the hollow and into the road which they had left in such high spirits a few minutes before. They had been stripped clean. If their outer clothing had fitted any of the rascals they would have probably lost that too. They were utterly forlorn and downhearted.
If they had lost their possessions after a hot resistance against those who were anyway near their age and size, there would at least have been the exhilaration of the fight. But even that poor compensation was denied them. The odds had been too overwhelming even to think of a struggle.
At first they could not even speak to each other. When they attempted to find words they were so mad that they could only splutter.
“The skunks!” Fred managed to get out at last.
“The low down brutes,” growled Mouser.
“Every cent gone,” groaned Pee Wee. “And those sleeve buttons were a Christmas gift from my mother.”
“And that silver watch was one my father gave me on my last birthday,” muttered Bobby thickly.