"Look out, Sandy!" yelled Scootsy to his leader,
who was now sneaking up to Archie with the movement
of an Indian in ambush;--"he's drawed a
knife."
Sandy stopped and straightened himself within
three feet of Archie. His hand still smarted from
the blow Archie had given it. The "spad" had not
stopped a second in that attack, and he might not in
this; the next thing he knew the knife might be
between his ribs.
"Drawed a knife, hev ye!" he snarled. "Drawed
a knife, jes' like a spad that ye are! Ye oughter
put yer hair in curl-papers!"
Archie looked at the harmless knife in his hand.
"I can fight you with my fists if you are bigger
than me," he cried, tossing the knife down the open
hatchway into the sand below. "Hold my coat,
Tod," and he began stripping off his little jacket.
"I ain't fightin' no spads," sneered Sandy. he
didn't want to fight this one. "Yer can't skeer
nobody. You'll draw a pistol next. Yer better go
home to yer mammy, if ye kin find her."
"He ain't got no mammy," snarled Scootsy.
"He's a pick-up--me father says so."
Archie sprang forward to avenge the insult, but
before he could reach Scootsy's side a yell arose
from the bow of the hulk.
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