handed work. Now you have your last warning,—and if you are wise you'll heed it."
"Say, do you want to fight?" roared Jasniff, coming forward, and sticking his chin close to Dave's face.
"I can defend myself, Jasniff,—even when a fellow tried to take a foul advantage of me, as you did that time in the gym."
"Bah! Always ringing that in. I only swung the Indian club to scare you. I can fight with my fists."
"Well, remember what I said, Jasniff. It's my last warning."
"Oh, come on—they make me sick!" cried Link Merwell, a certain nervous tremor in his voice. "We don't want to listen to their hot air!" And plucking his crony by the arm he hurried out of the alleyway into the street.
"Shall we let 'em go, Dave?" whispered Phil. "I'd just as soon pound 'em good."
"If we did that, Phil, they'd claim we were three to two and took an unfair advantage of them. Let them go. They have their final warning, and if they don't heed it—well, they will have to take the consequences."
"I could hardly keep my hands off of Merwell."
"I felt the same way," said Roger. "He deserves all we could give him."
