grasp. He looked so determined that Nat became alarmed and backed away several feet.
"Don't you—you—er—hit me!" cried the money-lender's son.
"What a mean piece of business," observed Roger, as he came up, followed by Phil. "Nat, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!"
"Oh, you shut up!" grumbled Nat, not knowing what else to say.
"I always thought you were a first-class coward," put in Phil. "Now I am sure of it."
"This is none of your affair, Phil Lawrence!"
"I should think it was the affair of any person who wanted to see fair play," answered the shipowner's son.
"Nat, you take your handkerchief and wipe off Mr. Potts's clothes," said Dave, sternly.
"Eh?" queried the money-lender's son in dismay.
"You heard what I said. Go and do it, and be quick about it."
"I—er—I don't have to."
"Yes, you do. If you don't" Dave ended by walking over to a barrel and filling the syringe with the spraying fluid.
"Hi! don't you douse me with that!" yelled the other youth in alarm. Then he started to run away, but the senator's son caught him by one arm and Phil caught him by the other.
