"I'm hardly a saint, and am not sure that I'd care to be one. But at least I'm happier and better off than a bigger fellow who'd be a big scoundrel if he weren't too big a coward!"
"You mean that for me, do you?" snarled Dexter.
"You may have it if you like it!"
"You insolent little puppy!" snapped Ab., giving emphasis to his wrath by kicking him.
"I see that I was wrong," said Prescott quietly. "I intimated that you are a coward. I apologize. Only a brave man would kick a helpless boy."
The quiet irony of the speech made even Ab. Dexter flush.
"Well, I wasn't kicking a boy. I was kicking his freshness," explained Dexter, in a harsh voice. "And I'll kick a lot more of that freshness, if I have to."
"I don't doubt it. Women and boys are your choice for fighting material. And, if I had some of my chums here, you'd find kicking boys too perilous a sport."
"You won't have them here," laughed Ab. coarsely. "You're the only one of the six that I want, so the others can stay in Gridley."
"But they won't," declared Dick. "At least, not long, after they discover that I'm missing."