"Have to catch up a real cow, I reckon," dreamily went on one of the boys' tormentors, gazing at the ceiling abstractedly, but fingering the condensed milk can.
"What for?" inquired the other, playing into his hand.
"Why, the tin cow might disagree with mama's boys."
"Ho-ho-ho! Say, Clark."
"What, Jess?"
"Reckon they must be overstocked with yearlings East."
"Looks that way. Do you suppose Easterners are born or jest grow?"
The youth addressed by his companion as Jess looked straight at Rob as he spoke, and the insult was unmistakable. Rob's self-control suddenly deserted him with a rush.
"I'll answer for your friend," he snapped out. "They grow-and-they-grow-right."
Tubby looked up in surprise from his raisin pie, and Merritt's eyes opened wide at Rob's tone. It foreboded trouble as sure as a hurricane signal foretells a storm.