Our heads were close together looking at the plough, when a sudden consciousness as of the presence of something disagreeable stole upon us. A sound like the snapping of a twig made us all look up, and there stood Jim, a big boy, one of the worst that ever entered our school, and who had been excluded from all the gangs on account of his vicious, meddlesome disposition. With a contemptuous grin, he passed his eyes from one boy to the other, as though to discern the character of each one. When this unpleasant stare fell upon Warren, he bristled up, gave back a defiant look, and kept it steadily upon the unwelcome visitor. Without relaxing the mirthless smile, so characteristic of him, Jim addressed the boy, “Warren, I just come from the spring, where a lot of boys was talking. I heard Gid say that he could lick you. I told him I’d come and tell you what he said. Then he says, ‘I don’t care, I ain’t ’fraid of him!’ ”
“You go and tell Gid,” said Warren, springing to his feet, “I can lick two like him, and I’ll show him any time he wants me to.”
The mischief-maker had read well the character of Warren, and had won from him the expected reply.
We resumed our examination of the plough thinking that our interview with the talebearer had ended. Jim thrust his hands into his pockets, and walked uneasily about; he came to where little Bob was sitting, and, pulling out a warty hand, he pointed his finger at the boy’s face, making a hissing sound between his teeth. Jim never passed by a chance to tease a smaller boy. Bob put his hands to his face and began crying. We all rose to our feet; Edwin moved forward in a threatening attitude, and said, “Jim, you let that boy alone. What you want to tease him for?”
Jim turned away, looked up into a tree, threw a stone at a bird, and then slowly sauntered off.
We sat down again to resume our talk about Brush’s little plough, but our minds seemed to turn in another direction.
“I don’t want Warren to fight Gideon,” said Edwin; “he’s a bad fellow, that Gideon is. He don’t fight fair.”
“But he can’t back out,” spoke up Lester, “and I don’t want him to. I don’t want the rest of the boys to think he’s ’fraid.”
“Warren’s got to fight Gid,” exclaimed Brush. “If he only kept quiet and didn’t say anything when Jim told him what Gid said, it would be all right and no fight; but now everybody knows what Warren said, and he can’t back out without the boys thinking he’s a coward. We will see that Gid fights fair, and, if he don’t, we will thrash his whole gang. Warren can use his arms and fists all right; but he can’t wrestle very good. Frank, you’d better show him some of those new holds.”
Warren and I took several rounds in which I showed him a number of new tricks I had learned from a good wrestler. There was quite an important one of which he was ignorant; I gave him some lessons in that; then we sat down to talk over the challenge again with the rest of the boys.
“I think Warren can throw Gid right easy,” I said; “if he can remember that waist and chin trick, and the way to break it, he can down Gid every time.”
“Remember that!” warned Lester, looking at his brother. “If Gid plays that waist and chin trick, you do just what Frank showed you to do to break it.”
While we were talking, we heard the slapping of bare feet upon the hard ground, and soon a boy appeared before us, imitating the actions of a spirited horse. “Whoa’p! Whoa’p!” he called repeatedly, as with loud snorts the imaginary steed reared and plunged about; finally the excited animal came to a standstill. Looking at Warren, the boy said, “Gid told me to come and tell you, he will meet you down below the barn, at the east gate, right after school this afternoon. He told me to tell you again he can lick you good.”
After some prancing about, the boy ran off, clapping his hips with his hands to imitate the sound of galloping hoofs.
Gideon had accepted Warren’s challenge, and we had no misgivings as to the outcome, for we had every confidence in Warren’s courage and strength. What concerned us most was Jim’s meddling with us and the means by which we could prevent his farther interference with our peace. He had made trouble with other gangs just in this way. We were still discussing this matter when the school-bell rang, and we went to the house together.
The boys who had already taken their seats looked up at us as we entered the schoolroom, then they turned their glances upon Gideon to see how he would behave. The two boys, Gideon and Warren, stared at each other defiantly; the rest saw there was no courage lacking in either, and they expected a lively battle between the two. Jim pretended to be studying; but we knew that he was closely watching the victims of his machinations to see how they would act. Jim never studied; he was always at the foot of his class, and boys younger than he were far in advance of him.
At last the monotonous recitations came to an end. We sang a song about “Pretty little zephyrs,” then Graybeard closed the school with the usual religious exercises.
The boys gathered in groups and walked down to the place designated for the combat. We followed slowly, as we wanted time to give all the instructions necessary to Warren. A large ring had been formed by the boys, and Gid was already in the centre with his coat off and his sleeves rolled up. Jim glanced at us as though
