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And yet he was certainly quicker of movement and had an advantage in reach, and there was a certain careful precision about Penny's movements that encouraged Clint. Dreer had moved well away from the scene and was looking on with eager, excited face, a cruel smile twisting his thin lips. Suddenly Beaufort lunged forward with his right and then shot his second under Penny's guard.
"You dare touch me and it'll be mighty bad for you, Byrd! I'm not going to fight you, and you can't make me." "Suit yourself about that," replied Amy, stepping toward him. Dreer thought of flight, but it looked hopeless. Besides, a remnant of pride counselled him to bluster it out rather than run away. He laughed, not very successfully. "Two against one, eh? Wait till fellows hear about it!
With a hand pressed to his bleeding cheek, he stared dumbly at Amy, trembling and panting. Clint, who had watched proceedings from a few yards away, felt sorry for the boy. "That's enough, Amy," he said. "He can't fight." "Oh, yes, he can," returned Amy sternly. "He can fight when the other fellow's smaller than he is, can't you, Dreer? And he's a very skilful arm-twister, too.
Clint says that last year was their first at Claflin and that they didn't have any right to play on the team." "Rot! Ainsmith's been at Claflin two years and Kenney three. Where'd you get that dope, Thayer?" "I heard it and I think I'm right," said Clint stubbornly. "You can't be," persisted Amy. "Dreer went to Claflin last year, and he knows, don't you, Dreer?" "Of course I know!
Dreer ought to have spanked him." "Then you don't think Penny had any right to interfere?" "Don't I? You bet I do! Anyone has a right to interfere with Harmon Dreer. Anyone who hands him a jolt is a public benefactor." "I fear you're a trifle biased," laughed Clint. "Whatever that is, I am," responded Amy cheerfully. "What was Melville doing to arouse the gentleman's wrath?"
He says the fiddle he's using now isn't nearly as good as the one Dreer busted, but I can't see much difference myself. Can you, Clint?" Clint shook his head sorrowfully. "Sounds even louder to me," he said. "I must drop around some time and hear him perform," laughed the coach. "He must be something of a character."
"I I'll get you into trouble for this, Byrd," called Dreer as he moved away. "You needn't think I'm through with you, you big bully!" Amy made no response. The stranger was smiling amusedly at the two boys who remained, flicking his cane in and out of the fallen leaves beside the fence. "Everything quite satisfactory now?" he inquired. "Yes, sir, thank you," replied Amy.
Dreer put up a half-hearted defence then, and for a moment the two boys circled about on the dusty sidewalk, Dreer pale and plainly scared, Amy smiling and deliberate. Then came a feint at Dreer's body, a lowering of his guard and a quick out-thrust of Amy's left fist. The blow landed on Dreer's cheek and he went staggering backward against the palings. He was too frightened to cry out.
I haven't got him warmed up yet, that's all. We've only started, haven't we, Dreer?" "You you brute!" muttered Dreer. "What do you want me to do? I I'll do anything you say, Byrd." "Will you? Then come away from that fence so I can knock you over again, you sneak!" "He's had enough, Amy," pleaded Clint. "Enough? Oh, no, he hasn't!
Besides, Claflin doesn't do that sort of thing, Thayer. It doesn't have to! You'd better turn over; you're on your back!" "That's what I heard," persisted Clint. "You're wrong!" Dreer laughed contemptuously. "Whoever told you that stuff was stringing you. Well, I must get a move on. I've got a ten o'clock." "But wait a minute," begged Amy. "You've got time enough. Let's get this settled."
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