“You open it—just you open it!” came from Willie.
Tom Clifton’s forbearance was not equal to the task of accepting this command with equanimity, particularly as it was accompanied by a threatening movement of Willie’s fist.
Deliberately, he turned the pages.
“Why, it’s called ‘Practical Mechanics,’ fellows,” he announced.
Willie instantly tore the book from his grasp.
“You’ll catch it for that, you bean-stalk!” he piped, furiously.
“Little grouch! Scary kid—afraid of everything!” cried Tommy, highly incensed and excited. “Afraid of bronchos! Afraid of tame old cows! Afraid to go up in an aeroplane!”
“I am, eh? I’ll show you how much afraid I am, Doctor Clifton!”
To the astonishment of all, Willie deliberately elbowed the tall lad aside and laboriously climbed up by the side of Bob Somers.
“There’ll be the biggest muss anybody ever heard of, if you try to put me off, Somers,” he snapped.