me from digressing so far as to say that,
in more than a dozen years with boys, in school and out, I have never
heard of such a thing as two boys getting up a fight and having it out
alone. There must be a crowd of bruisers and "scallewags" around, to
keep up the courage of the combatants. Therefore, those who look on are
just as bad as those who fight, for without their presence the fight
could not be carried through.

Tommy Howard had said all he had to say, and was therefore ready to
depart. He turned to do so, and walked several steps down the alley,
though he kept one eye over his shoulder to guard against accidents.

"Hit him, Johnny!" cried one of the vagabond troops that followed in
the train of the bully.

"He darsen't fight," replied Johnny.

"Nor you, nuther," added another of the supporters.

This was too much for Johnny. It cut him to the quick, and he could not
stand it. If he did not thrash Tommy now, his reputation would be
entirely ruined.

"Darsen't I?" exclaimed he. "Come back here;" but as Tommy did not
come, he ran up behind him, and aimed a blow at the side of his head.

Katy's intrepid defender, who had perhaps read in some Fourth of July
oration that "eternal vigilance is the price of liberty," was not to be
surprised, and facing about, he warded off the blow. Johnny's imperiled
reputation rendered him desperate. He had gone too far to recede, and
he went into action with all the energy and skill of a true bruiser.
Tommy was now fully roused, and his blows, which were strictly in
self-defense, fell rapidly and heavily on the head of his assailant.
But I am not going to give my young readers the particulars of the
fight; and I would not have let Tommy engage in such a scene, were it
not to show up Johnny as he was, and finish the portrait of him which I
had outlined; to show the difference between the noble, generous,
brave, and true-hearted boy, and the little bully, whom all my young
friends have seen and despised.

In something less than two minutes, Johnny Grippen, after muttering
"foul play," backed out with bloody nose, as completely whipped, and as
thoroughly "cowed down," as though he had been fighting with a royal
Bengal tiger. His supremacy was at an end, and there was danger that
some other bold fellow might take it into his head to thrash the donkey
after the lion's skin had been stripped from his shoulders.

"If you are satisfied now, I'll go about my business," said Tommy,