“That’s not true!”
“Can’t even hang onto a basketball,” Pat went on with his tormenting. “Sissies!”
“And look at that little panty-waist with curls!” shouted one of the boys in Pat’s gang. He had singled Chub out for attention.
Walking over to the shy boy, he gave his corduroy suit jacket a hard jerk. Chub cringed back into the doorway.
“Scared, ain’t you?”
“You leave Chub alone,” Dan said, stepping in front of the new Cub member.
The other boy fell back a step, but not because of Dan’s command. In truth, he had caught a glimpse of Mr. Hatfield coming down the corridor to the church doorway.
“What goes on here?” the Cub leader demanded, and this time his voice was stern.
With shouts of laughter, Pat and his followers ran off down the street, rattling a string of tin cans.
“That Pat is a mean one,” Chips declared. “He’d have started trouble if you hadn’t come along, Mr. Hatfield.”