Great as was the amazement of the boys to see Victor, his next words amazed them still more.
“Come down out of that, Clifton, and I’ll punch you good and plenty!” he howled.
Before Tom Clifton could gather his wits together and reply, Victor was speaking again.
“That was about the meanest and silliest trick I ever heard of!” he exclaimed, brandishing a small white fist in the air. “I’ve got it in for you, too, Blakelets; and ditto for you, Bob Somers.”
The group in the motor car exchanged glances of bewilderment. Then the chauffeur spoke up.
“How did you get here, Victor?” he asked.
This question seemed to increase Victor’s fiery attitude.
“Oh, don’t try to jolly me,” he screeched. “Put that innocent look off your face, Tom Clifton. And if you’re not too scared step down and get the first instalment of what’s coming to you!”
Tom Clifton, fairly aghast, flushed crimson. For him to be threatened in the presence of his chums by a boy of Victor’s size was more than his feelings could stand.
Words and actions came to his relief. Springing to the ground he seized Victor by the arm.