“I ain’t got none,” answered Sammy dejectedly.
Art took the belligerent Sammy by the shoulders and faced him about.
“Do you want to be there?” Art asked.
“Sure,” replied the younger boy.
“Then remember this,” announced Art. “It’s an aeroplane tournament. Bring your machines and these.” As he concluded he held up his two bare hands.
Sammy reached for the prohibited article of offense with a crestfallen air.
“How about notifyin’ the Goosetowners to vacate?” resumed Alex Conyers.
“What for?” asked Art.
“So’s we can hold our meet in peace.”
“And be ‘milksops’?” sneered Art. “I think it’s time to decide this thing. Mebbe we’ll get licked. But we can be game and take our trimmin’. I reckon ‘milksops’ don’t do that.”