“I won’t, if you jab my eyes out with the corner,” growled his companion.
“Oh, get over that grouch. What’s the matter with you, anyway?”
“Lots.”
“Forget it.”
“I can’t. Wouldn’t the way old Sharswood talked make anybody hopping?”
“It’s a wonder he didn’t make you go hopping, son. Awful nervy—that chirp you got off, too. He’s a big man in town. I’ll bet dad was mad.”
“Why? What did I say?” asked Willie, with an innocent stare.
“Lots! But never mind—it’s all right. Look here, lad: in a few days, Bob Somers an’ his crowd’ll strike this town.”
His companion made no reply.
“Did you hear what I said about Bob Somers an’ his Rambler Club?” Cranny’s demand was loud and emphatic.