"I'll bet I won't," replied Johnny, gruffly, as he drew the basket out of the reach of the supplicant. "You needn't come round here tryin' to hook my fish."
"You hooked 'em," said another juvenile angler who sat on the capsill of the pier by Johnny's side.
"Who says I hooked 'em?" blustered Johnny, whose little dirty paws involuntarily assumed the form of a pair of fists, scientifically disposed and ready to be the instruments of the owner's vengeance upon the traducer of his character.
"I say so," added Tommy Howard, who did not seem to be at all alarmed at the warlike attitude of his fellow-angler.
"Say it again, and I'll smash your head," continued Johnny, jumping up from his seat.
"Didn't you hear me? Once is enough."
Tommy coolly hauled up a large flounder at that moment, and threw the fish into his basket. It was rather refreshing to see how regardless he was of that pair of menacing fists.
"Jest you say that once more, and see what I'll do," persisted Johnny.
"I won't do it."
"You dasn't say it again."