"Let him go, or I'll tear yer into mince-meat, curse yer!"
The chief of the Jolly Grasshoppers was not in the habit of obeying orders, but Grump's hands imparted to his command considerable moral force.
No sooner, however, had Broady extricated himself from Grump's grasp than he drew his revolver and fired. Grump fell, and the chief of the Jolly Grasshoppers, his injured dignity made whole, walked peacefully away.
The sound of the shot brought up all the boys from below.
"They've fit!" gasped the doubter, catching his breath as he ran, "an' the boy—boy's hed to—lay him out."
It seemed as if the doubter might be right, for the boys found Grump lying on the ground bleeding badly, and the Pet on his hands and knees.
"How did it come 'bout?" asked the colonel of Pet.
"Broady done it," replied Grump, in a hoarse whisper; "he pounded the boy, and I tackled him—then he fired."
The doubter went around and raised the dying man's head. Pet seemed collecting all his energies for some great effort; finally he asked:
"What made you pour your dust into my pouch?"