"
Professor Zepplin stroked his bristling whiskers reflectively.
"What is your name, my man?" he asked stepping up to the prisoner.
But the fellow made no reply.
"I said what is your name?" repeated Professor Zepplin.
"What's that to you, old Whiskers?"
The professor started, a faint touch of color showing under his tan,
while audible chuckles might have been heard from the boys in the
background.
"Such language will not help you. What is your name?"
"Yours will be Mud when I git out of this, you old scarecrow! Don't
you stand there jawing over me. I don't like it," added the prisoner,
so savagely that the professor shrank back a little.
"It's no use to question him, professor," spoke up Tad. "He won't
answer questions."
"I question our right to hold him," said Professor Zepplin. "We have
no proof that he is the man who shot at us."
"I've got proof that he assaulted me," bristled Ned.
"And I that he shot at me four times," added Tad. "I should think
that were proof enough. What would you do, Professor?"
"I was thinking that we should let the man go with an admonition."
"No, no, no," protested Chunky. "I don't want to be shot up again
to-day."
"Don't be afraid, little boy," urged Rector. "We are not going to let
the man go---not if I have to fight for it."
"Professor, this fellow thought us Rangers," began Tad.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63