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.