Dexter, still astride his young captive, raised his fist. Prescott did not flinch, and it suddenly struck the fellow that he was going about his business in the wrong way. Dexter had never looked for a young Grammar School boy to be so firm and undaunted.
"Now, don't be a fool, Prescott," he began, trying a new tack.
"You ought to be a fine teacher in the subject of good sense," suggested Dick mockingly.
"I think I can be."
"Fire away, then."
"Prescott, you don't have much spending money, do you?"
"Not enough to worry the bank with."
"You'd like more?"
"Of course."
"I'm going to find it for you."