“Who’s the magician?”
“Me,” Scoop informed modestly, putting out his chest.
Bid’s cousin gave a scornful laugh.
“A punk show, I bet.”
“Punk is right,” another member of the gang [[15]]chimed in. “Look at the punk seats,” the jealous one pointed. “Some carpenters!”
“Wood butchers,” jeered Jimmy Stricker.
“And look at the punk stage.”
That made us hot. For we were proud of our work, as we had a right to be. And, with Peg in the lead, we took after the smart alecks and chased them away.
“We’ll fix your old show,” Bid yelled back.
“Try it,” dared Peg, “and see what happens to you.”