The Border Boys in the Canadian Rockies

“Hold on there a minute! Don’t you think you’re being unnecessarily rough with that boy?”
“Naw, I don’t. And if I am, it ain’t none of your business that I can see.”
“Perhaps I mean to make it so.”
“Aw run along and play, kid. Don’t bother me.”
The brakeman glared angrily at the tall, well-built lad who had accosted him. In so doing, he for an instant ceased belaboring a dust-covered, cowering lad in pitifully ragged clothing whom, a moment before, he had been cuffing about the head without mercy.