Colette

“I’ll t-tell Dad!” Dudley whimpered. “W-where are you? What are you d-do — ?” “Will you shut up?” Harry hissed, “I’m trying to lis —” But he fell silent. He had heard just the thing he had been dreading. There was something in the alleyway apart from themselves, something that was drawing long, hoarse, rattling breaths. Harry felt a horrible jolt of dread as he stood trembling in the freezing air. “C-cut it out! Stop doing it! I’ll h-hit you, I swear I will!” “Dudley, shut —” WHAM! A fist made contact with the side of Harry’s head, lifting Harry off his feet. Small white lights popped in front of Harry’s eyes; for the second time in an hour he felt as though his head had been cleaved in two; next moment he had landed hard on the ground, and his wand had flown out of his hand. “You moron, Dudley!” Harry yelled, his eyes watering with pain, as he scrambled to his hands and knees, now feeling around frantically in the blackness. He heard Dudley blundering away, hitting the alley fence, stumbling. “DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU’RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

“comes from a long line of rough and tumble men, who make decisions at the drop of a hat. As soon as he hears the news of his father's death and his inheritance of Ranch Number Ten, he rushes to claim his inheritance. It might turn out to be the worst mistake of his life! Excerpt: "Steve Packard's pulses quickened and a bright eagerness came into his eyes as he rode deeper into the pine-timbered mountains. To-day he was on the last lap of a delectable journey. Three days ago he had ridden out of the sun-baked town of San Juan; three months had passed since he had sailed out of a South Sea port.Far down there, foregathering with sailor men in a dirty water-front boarding-house, he had grown suddenly and even tenderly reminiscent of a cleaner land which he had roamed as a boy. He stared back across the departed years as many a man has looked from just some such resort as Black Jack's boarding-house, a little wistfully”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The House on the Cliff: Adventure & Mystery Novel