If you don't, I'll throw you out!" This somewhat astounding threat caused an exchange of surprised glances between the culprits.

Neither Steve nor Tom were quarrelsome, nor had they had more than a boy's usual share of fist battles, but the bullying speech and attitude of the round-faced youth was so uncalled for and exasperating that Steve's temper got the better of him for the moment.
"We weren't doing any harm here," he declared indignantly.

"And we'll get out, but we're not afraid of you, even if you have got piano legs!" The big fellow pulled his hands from his pockets with an angry growl and, clenching his fists, strode toward the boys.

But at that instant footsteps sounded in the locker room, and the bully's hands dropped and he turned his head toward the door just as a small, red-haired and freckle-faced little Irishman came into sight.
"Hello, Eric the Red," he said jovially.

"An' what might you be doin' down here, me boy ?" "I'm telling these fresh kids to get out of here," replied the youth.
"Any objections ?" The little Irishman seemed surprised, and he smiled, but the boys noted that his small and rather greenish eyes narrowed.
"None at all, at all, me boy.