“No?” said Frank, edging over to Joe’s side, and doubling his fists as well. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Yes,” added Chet, trying to achieve a threatening expression, “what are you going to do about it?”
Ike and Tad surveyed the three lads who stood facing them, with fists ready. Like most bullies, they were cowards, and now that their bluff had been called they were not anxious to risk a battle that might prove the worse for them.
“You’ll find out what we’ll do about it,” growled Ike. “As for me, I wouldn’t waste my time thrashing you, although you need it mighty bad——”
“Sure,” agreed Tad Carson quickly. “I wouldn’t lower myself to lick you. Just a pack of babies, that’s all. You oughtn’t to be allowed out on the bay when you can’t handle a boat.”
“It’s your boat that got smashed,” Chet reminded them cheerfully. “How was that for handling?”
“Come on,” said Ike. “Don’t talk to the brats, Tad. What’s the use wasting time on them?”
“That’s what I say,” agreed his companion, and they returned loftily to their smashed boat, trying to conceal their chagrin.
“Want a ride back?” chirped Chet.
“You clear out of here, or we’ll smash your boat too.”