Brush stepped hastily forward and asked, “Who said we’re afraid? Whoever said it, let him come out here and I’ll show him whether we’re afraid or not!”
No one answered. There were few boys in the school who would without fear accept a challenge from Brush.
A place was cleared for us, and Warren, after handing me his coat, entered the ring. The two boys approached each other and stopped within a few feet.
“Did you tell Jim you could lick me?” asked Warren, looking his opponent square in the eye.
“Yes. And I can do it too,” was the bold reply.
“You can’t do it!” exclaimed Warren, striking Gideon in the chest.
Then followed an exciting scene. Gideon rushed at Warren, and aimed blow after blow at his face, but our boy skilfully parried each attack. Round and round within the ring the two boys carried on their strife, neither one prevailing. For a while no serious blows were dealt, finally, in an unguarded moment Warren received a hard thrust in the left side which made him gasp; whereat Gid’s gang shouted in chorus, “Choo-ie!”6 After this success Gideon grew reckless and struck wildly, and Warren was a little too anxious to put in a good hit before the proper moment. Gid made another effort at his antagonist’s ribs, but the blow fell short; then Warren made a lunge at Gid’s face; he dodged, but not quickly enough to save his ear from a bad scraping from Warren’s knuckles. “Choo-ie!” cried Lester and the rest of us at this success; but Gid’s next movement threw us into dismay, he had suddenly seized Warren around the waist while his arms were uplifted. Gid put his chin against Warren’s chest and began pulling in his back. Warren tried to twist Gid’s neck; but there was no use in that, Warren was slowly giving way. If he should fall the battle would be won by Gideon.
“Put your arms under his and push!” I said to Warren in an undertone. I couldn’t help doing it.
Isaac, a blustering little chap and one of Gid’s gang overheard me; stepping forward and pointing his finger at me, he angrily exclaimed, “Frank, you know that ain’t fair, we don’t do that way.”
“You do worse than that,” I retorted. “The whole four of you jumped on me in the schoolroom; that wasn’t fair, but I licked you! Wait till Warren and Gid get through, then I’ll see you!”
Warren had heard my words, and acted on them at once, and so released himself from Gideon’s dangerous grasp. Then they went to sparring again. In making a thrust Warren stumbled on a round stone and fell on one knee, before he could rise Gid put in a blow that cut Warren’s under lip. “Choo-ie!” exclaimed the friends of Gid. It seemed for a moment as though the victory would be against us. The struggle now became desperate. Gid was blowing hard, but there was still considerable reserve of strength in Warren. Gid repeatedly tried to grasp his antagonist’s waist, but was every time cleverly brought about again to fists.
Warren’s shirt front was bloody and his short hair stood straight up, giving him a frightful aspect. Gid’s thrusts and parries now grew visibly weaker, but he showed no signs of yielding. He lowered his fists to give an under cut, thus leaving his face unguarded, quick as a flash Warren’s right arm shot out, and with a sickening thud his fist landed square on Gid’s nose. The blood spurted; the boy was stunned, and, before he could recover, he received another blow on the eye.
The fight was ended, and Gid’s friends dragged him away more dead than alive.
Warren came to us smiling as widely as his swollen lip would permit.
“You did first rate, old boy!” said Brush, slapping Warren’s back.
“He’ll never want to fight you again,” added Lester.
I helped Warren to put on his coat, then I looked around to see where Edwin was. I saw him standing before Jim, who was watching us with his wicked grin. They both spoke, but I could not hear them for the noise of the talk around me. Suddenly Edwin’s long arm darted out, his fist came square on Jim’s cheek with a resounding whack. Jim’s face became livid, and the spot upon which the blow fell twitched convulsively. When the natural color returned to his face, Jim deliberately pulled off his coat; he was going to fight Edwin. It was an uneven match; Jim stood a head taller and was heavier than Edwin.
“What’s the matter?” asked Brush, as he came up; “what are you going to do?”
“We’re going to fight,” replied Edwin; “I hit him because he made that trouble.”
“Jim,” said Brush, stepping forward and rolling up his sleeves, “I don’t think it would be unfair for two of us to fight you. You are bigger than any of us, so I am going to help Edwin to thrash you. You’ve been making mischief for others, now it’s going to come to you.”
The boys gathered around the three to see another fight, but were disappointed. Jim made no further demonstration, but stood looking at the two boys; at last he muttered something to himself, and, picking up his coat, pushed his way out of the crowd.
All the boys pointed their fingers at Jim, and shouted, “Ah, coward!” Jim turned his head and looked at them sulkily, but went on, and no one cared to follow him.
VI
Lester
The hands of the little clock on Graybeard’s desk indicated the hour of two. The midsummer’s sun hurled its rays with unrelenting force to the earth, and the wind, as though consenting to the attack, withheld its refreshing breezes. All the windows of our schoolroom were thrown wide open, and
