297 words, according to M$

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Billy pushed his glasses back up his nose and mustered the fiercest look he had. "This is my money," he growled. His shoulders sagged as the brave words came out like a puppy's whine.

Johnny thrust a meaty hand into Billy's shoulder and laughed as the younger kid sprawled onto the pavement. "It's my money now, shrimp."

Billy straightened his glasses. "This is my paper route money. I earned it!"

"And now it's my safety money. You give it to me, you stay safe." He leaned over, his shadow blotting out the sun. "It takes a lot of papers to buy new glasses, four eyes."

Billy winced as he reached into his pocket. Gravel and grit with flecks of blood smeared the pocket lining. His mother was going to kill him when he got home!

Impatient, Johnny took a step closer, his left foot by Billy's right knee. His left foot was positioned between Billy's legs.

"This isn't fair!" Billy drew out the coins he'd worked so hard for. He glanced down at them, their brilliant gleam eclipsed by Johnny. The gutter beckoned, but Billy knew he'd pay for his defiance if he threw the coins. He held up his hand in supplication.

"Enough for a whole bag of jawbreakers," Johnny said.

"One and a half bags," Billy replied without thinking.

"What are you still doing here, four eyes? Are you expecting the other half?" Johnny snarled.

Billy scuttled out from under his tormentor, then slowly got up and backed away.

"And you better not tell your parents, or I'll find you. I know where you live!"

Billy backed around the corner before turning around, heading home. He began whistling a sad, strange tune. And I know where you live. And I know where your puppy lives.