"You know that well enough, Hen Dutcher.

You're one of our own crowd--that is, you go to the Central Grammar with us, and yet you've joined in with some High School boys to bother us and spoil our fun.

Who's the sneak, Hen?
Who will the fellows at the Central Grammar call the sneak when they hear about this ?" Hen began to look decidedly uneasy.

He was well aware what the Grammar School boys in Gridley did to one of their own number who was voted a sneak.
"I--I didn't mean any harm," muttered Hen, almost whimpering.
"See here," demanded Dick, another idea coming to him, "how much did Fred Ripley pay you to help work against us." "He didn't pay me nothing," young Dutcher protested ungrammatically.
"How much did he agree to pay you, then?
Come--out with it!" insisted Dick.
Hen saw the other chums pressing about him threateningly, so he almost blubbered: "Said he'd give me a dollar if I did the trick right." "So there was a trick ?" cried Dick quickly; then added ironically: "Hen, you ought never to tell lies.

You don't do it skilfully.