Wet a towel and dab it on his face." "What the dickens was it all about, anyway ?" asked Clint as he followed instructions.
"Well, he was twisting young Melville's arm and the kid was yelling and--" "You'd have yelled yourself," muttered the boy, with a sniffle.
"I came out and told him to stop it and he didn't.

So I pulled the kid away from him and he got mad and punched me in the cheek.

So I went for him.

He's a mean pup, anyway, Dreer is." The subject of the compliment stirred and opened his eyes with a groan.
Then he looked blankly at Clint.

"Hello," he muttered.