thout much danger of
interference."

"It turned out finely---for them," chuckled Dave, as both boys
climbed back to the seat of the wagon. "But say, do you think
they could really make any trouble for me for using the whip over
them?"

"I don't know. I don't believe they'll try, anyway," Dick answered
thoughtfully. "It wouldn't be very nice for Fred to have his
father find out how his son spends his time and pocket money."

Dave drove back to Main Street, letting Dick off at his corner.
Down the side street a few doors and into the bookshop he hurried.

"Back again?" was Mr. Prescott's greeting. "What was the matter---the
volume not satisfactory!"

"No such party at the address," his son answered. "But I think
I can explain why the order was 'phoned in."

Dick then proceeded to narrate what had happened. His father
listened with growing anger.

"What a low, worthless trick that was to play," he cried. "Dick,
if you'll stay here and attend the store I'll step around to Mr.
Ripley's office and speak to him about it. Then I'll go over
to the bank and see Bert's father."

"Don't, dad; please don't," begged the boy.

"It seems to me that such action is highly necessary," maintained
Mr. Prescott.

"I hope you won't do it, dad. The best way to treat boys' rows
is to let them settle among themselves. If you interfere in this
matter, dad, I shall get a name among other boys for running to
my father for protection. That will turn the laugh on me all
over town. I'd much rather fight my own battles and take an
occasional pounding."

"Well, perhaps you're right about it," admitted his father
thoughtfully. "At all events, I'm glad to see that your disposition
is to take care of your own troubles. I won't interfere, though I am
certain that Mr. Ripley would like to know something about this affair."

"I already do know something about it," gravely announced a voice
behind them. There stood Lawyer Ripley, who had dropped in to
buy a magazine.

"I shall be glad if you will tell me more about this," the lawyer
went on solemnly.

Gladly would Dick have gotten out of it. He was inclined to say
very little, though what he did say was added to by his father.

"Is this the book, in this package?" inquired Mr. Ripley, as be
picked up the parcel.

"Yes," nodded Mr. Prescott.

"And the price?"

"Four dollars."

"Mr. Prescott, kindly charge this book to my account, unless I
return it by Monday morning," the lawyer we