“That’s all right, how I know.”
“You’ve met some of them?”
“None o’ your business!”
“You’ve seen one or two of them quite lately?” Harry asked, with just a touch of sharpness in his voice.
The fellow saw that he had fallen into a trap.
Almost in his first sentence he had admitted a knowledge of the boy scouts, and he stood embarrassed before Harry’s rather contemptuous smile.
“Are you goin’ ter clear out o’ this or not?”
“Not,” said Harry.
The fellow stooped and picked up a rock. Harry did not move. He dropped the rock and put his hand around to his hip pocket. Harry also put his hand in his hip pocket, and the fellow started back.
“Here, is this yours?” said Harry, tossing him the package of tobacco. “What’s the matter—did you think I was going to shoot you?”