"Well, I guess not!" cried Mort Bemis, coming upon the scene. "We want pay for what we do. We want a hundred dollars to begin with. A lot more when you get that money he owes you."
"My friends," said Ralph, promptly turning from the spot. "Not a cent. I don't believe you know how to act square. You don't show it by your present proposition. If you really want to be helped, and if you are sorry for your past wrong doing, come back to Stanley Junction, tell the truth, take your punishment like men, and I will be your good friend."
"Well, you're a bold ones" sneered Slump, getting very angry. "You won't help us out, then?"
"With money—on your promise? No. I shall find Gasper Farrington finally without your aid, and, if you have nothing further to say, I shall return to the picnic grounds."
"I don't think you will," said Bemis, roughly placing himself in Ralph's path.
"Why not?" inquired the young fireman calmly, grasping his cudgel with a closer grip.
"Because—say, Ike, grab him, quick! If he won't deal with us and we can get him a prisoner, Farrington will pay us. You know he always wanted to get rid of him."
Ralph prepared to meet the enemy squarely.
