"Are you enjoying yourself, Dexter?" asked the boy tauntingly.
"Yes. And before I get through with you, I'm going to make sure that you'll never interfere in my affairs again."
"Do you mean that you expect I'll stand off the next time that I see you trying to frighten your wife into supporting a lazy loafer in style?" Dick asked dryly.
"Hang you! You haven't learned your lesson yet, have you?"
"If you're trying to make me 'respect' you, Dexter, you've acted the wrong way all through to-day. You're entitled to no more respect than an Indian would show a rattlesnake."
Ab. Dexter's face was ablaze with wrath. He had expected to make this Grammar School boy beg for mercy before things had gone half as far as they had. Dick Prescott's undaunted pluck bewildered the mean bully.
"I'll make you shut up, boy, before I'm through with you!" he warned the lad.
"There's just one way to do that, Dexter!"
"Eh?"
"You'll have to knock me out."