TO EVEN UP OLD SCORES
"Lie still, boy!"
"Give him a tap if he kicks, Joey!"
Frank heard these words in the greatest astonishment. Even when some one had thrust that stick and upset him, he had certainly no other idea than that the unseen enemy must be one of the Lef Seller crowd, with whom he had had so much trouble in the past.
Both voices were strange to him! More than this, he realized that he had been pounced on by two full grown men, and not boys.
"What do you mean by this?" he demanded indignantly.
He was greeted by a scornful laugh.
"What do we mean, eh, Martin? Are we playing tag, and is this feller it now? Or do we want to whisper a few words in his ear about something that has bothered us considerable of late? Hey, Martin, which is it?" mocked one of the fellows.
Frank was quick to discern facts. He knew instinctively that these two men were either hoboes or rogues of some sort. The look on their faces stamped them as belonging to that great class which seems to consider organized society as legitimate prey.
But why should they attempt to interfere with him. It was a puzzle indeed, since he would not be apt to prove a profitable customer, if their motive were robbery.