"Hey you, a bag of bones, where do you think you're going?" a heavy-set teenager hailed with a sneer. "Hand us your money now!" another youth with an ample girth commanded. The two bullies and their gang surrounded Old Maggie and blocked her way. She could not walk past them because they were all six-footers and muscular.
The brawny bullies threatened to biff the sixty-two year-old widow if she refused to give them her purse. "You...you...all...of you... are bad boys! I'll call...call the police," Old Maggie stammered, fear was written on her face. The juvenile delinquents guffawed as they made fun of her by mocking her stutter.
"Give us your money now!" the gang leader ordered again in a stentorian voice. The lily-livered woman was a rabbit caught in the headlights. At that instant, she wished her husband, Old Mark, was there to protect her. A feeling of utter desolation filled her heart. With her head hung low, she submitted to the bad eggs.
The boys seized to the five fifty-dollar notes from her and hurled the empty purse onto the floor. "What an obedient old maid! Ha...ha...ha..." the immoral guys sniggered before haring off down the main street.
Old Maggie's face was contorted with bitterness and rage. After almost twenty minutes of sobbing her heart out, she decided to calm down. Like a helpless, young child, she toddled to the nearby police post to file a report.
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