"Who 's fightin' with females?" inquired Pud Jones.
Then some one tossed a dead sunfish neatly against the starched white blouse of the Preacher's son.
Piggie Brennan, finding a loose picket on the fence, wrenched it off, and deftly and contemptuously flung it for Lonely's shins. Lonely jumped and missed the blow. The laughing band fell back, and went listlessly and carelessly on its way. He was not even worth fighting with!
"Don't you come around me again until you get that hair o' yours cut off! D' you hear me?" Lonely suddenly blazed out at the startled and altogether innocent Preacher's son, in an inconsequential rage that was as unlooked for as it was passionate. And he contemptuously kicked over tombstone, burial casket, and canary hearse, and strode away.
