d
Dick hotly, as he leaped to his feet.

He was now near the package containing the book. Doubtless he
could have snatched up the book and sprinted to safety. But that
was not his way of meeting so great an affront.

"Don't you get saucy!" warned Fred, edging in closer. Bert Dodge
veered around so that be could attack Dick from one side.

"It would be honoring you too much to talk to you in any vein,"
Dick retorted sarcastically. "You're a pair of the most worthless
rowdies in Gridley."

"Go for him, Bert!" called Ripley.

"Why don't you?" sneered Dick, making a leap forward, straight
at Ripley.

Dodge swung in from behind, hitting Dick over the head. But Prescott's
movement, in the same moment, made the blow only a glancing one.

Bump! Dick landed on Fred Ripley's nose with force and weight
enough to make the lawyer's son stagger.

"Pound his head off, Bert!" howled Ripley putting a hand to his
injured nose.

But Dick wheeled just in time to avoid a treacherous blow from
the rear. With all the fury of the oppressed, Prescott leaped
in, planting one foot heavily on some of Bert's toes and striking
a blow that landed over that indignant youth's belt-line. Bert
fell back, panting.

"If you two have enough now," remarked Dick more coolly, "I'll
pick up my package and go on about my business."

"You can wager you won't get away until we've settled with you!"
snarled Dodge. "Rip, never mind your nose. Help me close in
on this scamp and show him what we can do to a fellow that we
don't like."

In another moment Dick was the center of a cyclone, or so it felt
to him. Both boys were larger and stronger, even if not quite
as quick as he. They rained blows upon him.

"Don't try to holler," jeered Fred Ripley. "That won't do you
any good. We'll tell you when you've had enough. Take it from
us and never mind your own opinions."

Dick did not answer. Sore and winded, he fought with all the
spirit that was in him.

So busy were all three of the boys, that none of them noted the
approach of a light express wagon drawn by a single horse. The
driver hauled up, a few yards away, then advanced, driving whip
in hand.

Slash!

"O-o-o-h!" yelled Fred Ripley, as he felt the whip land on his
legs.

Slash! slash!

"Quit that, you fiend!" begged Bert Dodge, doubling up and screaming
with pain.

"I'll quit when I think you've had enough!" hissed Dave Darrin,
his face ablaze with anger, his eyes flashing fire.

Sl