Arriving at the spot, the giant bent over, and they could hear his growl as he spoke harshly:
“Made up yer mind yet, younker? Will ye write thet letter jest as we tell ye, and let a couple o’ honest though unfortunit men have a square chanct to rake in a leetle pile? Speak up, now, d’ye hear?”
He accompanied his words by a brutal kick that gave Jack and George a spasm of anger.
“No! no! no!” shouted the obstinate Clarence, still undismayed; for his pluck was the best part of him, and had always been.
At that the big brute raised his heavy boot with ugly words. It was doubtless his full intention to dash it against the side of the helpless boy, regardless as to what the consequences might be. But he changed his mind.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, mister!” said Jack, in an even, clear voice, as he and George suddenly stood up in full sight.
He had covered the giant with his gun, and George was ready to do the same for the man with the pipe the instant he bounded to his feet.
“Stand still, both of you, or we’ll shoot!” George shouted.
This was a signal for the other three who were behind, and they suddenly made their appearance, waving their crude weapons menacingly.