rl enough."
"Mind your business, Hi-ram-Lo-ram!" returned Dan, Junior, grabbing at
Sister's hair again.
Hiram caught the younger boy by the shoulder and whirled him around.
"You run along to Mrs. Atterson, Sister," he said, quietly. "No, you
don't!" he added, gripping Dan, Junior, more firmly. "You'll stop right
here."
"Lemme be, Hi Strong!" bawled the other, when he found he could not
easily jerk away. "It'll be the worse for you if you don't."
"Just you wait until the girl is home," returned Hiram, laughing. It was
an easy matter for him to hold the writhing Dan, Junior.
"I'll fix you for this!" squalled the boy. "Wait till I tell my father."
"You wouldn't dare tell your father the truth," laughed Hi.
"I'll fix you," repeated Dan, Junior, and suddenly aimed a vicious kick
at his captor.
Had the kick landed where Dan, Junior, intended--under Hi's kneecap--the
latter certainly would have been "fixed." But the country youth was too
agile for him.
He jumped aside, dragged Dan, Junior, suddenly toward him, and then gave
him a backward thrust which sent the lighter boy spinning.
Now, it had rained the day before and in a hollow beside the path was
a puddle several inches deep. Dan, Junior, lost his balance, staggered
back, tripped over his own clumsy heels, and splashed full length into
it.
"Oh, oh!" he bawled, managing to get well soaked before he scrambled
out. "I'll tell my father on you, Hi Strong. You'll catch it for this!"
"You'd better run home before you catch cold," said Hiram, who could not
help laughing at the young rascal's plight. "And let girls alone another
time."
To himself he said: "Well, the goodness knows I couldn't be much more
in bad odor with Mr. Dwight than I am already. But this escapade of his
precious son ought to about 'fix' me, as Dan, Junior, says.
"Whether I want to, or not, I reckon I will be looking for another job
in a very few days."
CHAPTER II. AT MRS. ATTERSON'S
When you came into "Mother" Atterson's front hall (the young men
boarders gave her that appellation in irony) the ghosts of many ancient
boiled dinners met you with--if you were sensitive and unused to the
odors of cheap boarding houses--a certain shock.
He was starting up the stairs, on which the ragged carpet threatened to
send less agile persons than Mrs. Atterson's boarders headlong to
the bottom at every downward trip, when the clang of the gong in the
dining-room announced the usu
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