Non-classifiable
"You can't threaten me," I countered, my knees quivering with fear. "I'll tell whoever I want about this and you can't stop me."
"Oh, can't I? Your Grandpa's having a hard time scraping money to keep that ranch running, isn't he? How would it be if things got just a little bit harder? You wouldn't want ole' Granddad to lose the farm, now would you?"
"You couldn't do that," I whispered.
"Try me," Bellamy said, his eyes glittering like a snake's.
One of the private-school boys grabs hold of his buddy's arm. "Let's get outta here," he says. "See the fangs on that monster? And the way his ears are sticking up?"
I don't like him calling Smokey a monster. If Smokey's baring his fangs, it's because he's on the alert.
I head for the cash. I feel like Smokey needs me. Like I understand him in a way no one else does.
Ausby drew back his fist. "Back off, pal," he snarled. "I'm armed, but I don't want to use it. Make the little girl give me the bag, and I'll be on my way. If you don't, there's going to be a whole bunch of people hurt here today."
