"'Course I am."
"Somebody's got your beat."
"Who?" Tode stopped short in angry surprise as he asked the question.
"That big red-headed feller that they call Carrots."
"Well--Carrots'll find himself knocked out o' business," declared
Tode, fiercely.
When the newsboys assembled at the newspaper office a little later,
Dick speedily reported Tode's remark, and soon all eyes were on the
alert to see what would happen. Tode was greeted rather coldly and
indifferently, but that did not trouble him. He bought his papers and
set off for his usual beat. Scenting a fight a good many of the boys
followed. As Dick had said, Tode found the big fellow on the ground,
lustily crying his papers. Tode marched straight up to him.
"See here, Carrots, this's my beat. You clear out--d'ye hear?" he
shouted.
The big fellow leered at him scornfully, and without a word in
response, went on calling his papers.
Down on the ground went Tode's stock in trade, and he fell upon
Carrots like a small cyclone fighting with teeth, nails, fists and
heels, striking in recklessly with never a thought of fear.
Forgetful of possible customers, the boys quickly formed a ring, and
yelled and hooted at the antagonists, cheering first one and then the
other. But the contest was an unequal one.
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