"Not until I know your rights in the matter," replied Jack. "You see,
my board is paid in advance at this place."

"Huh!" growled the other, sneeringly. "Reckon ye don't know much 'bout
Dan Jaggers's way of doin' things."

"Who on earth is Dan Jaggers?" demanded Benson, curiously.

"That's me! It's my name," rejoined the swagger. "An', sense ye're
so fresh--"

Jaggers didn't finish in words, but, taking a firm hold on the back of
the chair, he suddenly pulled it out from under Benson. So swiftly was
the thing done that Jack went down on all fours on the porch. But,
thoroughly aroused, and his eyes flashing indignantly now, that boy was
quickly on his feet. Dan, however, with a satisfied grin, had dropped
into the chair.

"Going to get up out of that, Jaggers?" challenged Jack Benson.

"Not as I know of," rejoined Dan, with a broader grin. "Why?"

"Because I'd hate to hit you while you're sitting down," replied Jack
so quietly that his voice sounded almost mild.

"What's that?" demanded Jaggers, with a guffaw of laughter.

"You heard what I said," Jack insisted. "You'd better get up."

"Spoiling for a fight, are ye?" questioned the bully.