ask me about my smokin'! I'm sick o' hearin' about it, an' I ain't goin' to stand it, I ain't!" And he shook his fist in Tom's face.
"Sorry you feel so bad about it, Mr. Ricks," said Tom coolly. "I only wanted to do you a favor. Now this squash cure is warranted to"
"Didn't I tell you I don't want to hear about it!" shrilled the station agent. "You mind your business, Tom Rover! I know you! Some day I'll fix you, yes, I will!"
"Oh, Mr. Ricks, I only want to be of service. Now, if you will only listen. This squash cure is warranted"
"Stuff and nonsense! I won't listen, do you hear? I won't listen!" The station agent was fairly dancing up and down. I—I—There's the train. Go on with you, and good riddance!"
"Oh, Tom, you'll be the death of Ricks!" laughed Sam, as all of the lads climbed up the steps of the cars.
"Not much! Nothing like that will ever kill him," answered the fun-loving Rover. "He's too tough!"
"He'll get even with you some day," said Dick.
"Let him I'm willing," answered Tom, calmly. He was so fair-minded that he was willing to take as well as give, when it came to practical jokes.
