e
his steps to the old house, to which his father had been carefully
borne, when, happening to glance in the direction of the track leading
to the town, he caught sight of Tom coming along slowly.

Dick turned sullenly away, but Tom ran before him.

"Stop a minute," he cried; "let you and me have a talk. I don't want to
be bad friends, Dick."

"Neither do I," said the latter sadly.

"But you keep trying to be."

"No, I do not. You try to make me angry with you every time we meet."

"That's not true. I want to have you do your duty and tell all you
know. Father says you ought, as you know who it was."

"Have you told your father, then?"

"Yes, I told him to-day, and he said you ought to do your duty and
speak."

"Your father said that?"

"Yes: and why don't you--like a man."

Dick's brow grew all corrugated as if Black Care were sitting upon the
roof of his head and squeezing the skin down into wrinkles.

"Come, speak out, and don't be such a miserable coward. Father says you
don't speak because you are afraid that whoever did it may shoot you."

Dick's brow grew more puckered than ever.

"Now, then, let you and me go over and see Mr Marston and tell him
everything at once."

Dick looked at the speaker with a feeling of anger against him for his
obstinate perseverance that was almost vicious.

"Now, are you coming?"

"No, I am not."

"Then I've done with you," cried Tom angrily. "Father says that a lad
who knows who attacked his parent in that way, and will not speak out,
is a coward and a cur, and that's what you are, Dick Winthorpe."

"Tom Tallington," cried Dick, with his eyes flashing, "you are a fool."

"Say that again," said Tom menacingly.

"You are a fool and an idiot, and not worth speaking to again."

_Whack_!

That is the nearest way of spelling the back-handed blow which Tom
Tallington delivered in his old school-fellow's face, while the
straightforward blow which was the result of Dick Winthorpe's fist
darting out to the full stretch of his arm sounded like an echo; and the
next moment Tom was lying upon the ground.

There was no cowardice in Tom Tallington's nature. Springing up he made
at Dick, and the former friends were directly after engaged in
delivering furious blows, whose result must have been rather serious for
both; but before they had had time to do much mischief, each of the lads
was gripped on the shoulder by a giant hand, and they were forced apart,
and h