ctantly.

"Here is Terrible Turner himself," said Bassett, laying his hand on the
shoulder of a pug-nosed lad whose freckled face wore a queer look of
combined insolence and friendliness. "For the honor of the school he
will wrestle you to test your mettle--he's a wrestler from way-back. Do
you accept the challenge?"

Teeny-bits looked at Terrible Turner and then at Bassett, the Whirlwind.

"No," he said, "I don't want to wrestle in these clothes."

"Take off your coat, then; we consider it an insult to the whole school
if you don't accept the challenge. Are you afraid of Terrible Turner?
He's no bigger than you are."

Teeny-bits saw that the freckle-faced boy was in fact no larger than he,
but he did not seem any the more inclined to accept the call to combat.

After waiting a moment, Bassett said in a taunting voice: "Friends, let
me introduce you to Teeny-bits, the quitter."

The words had an effect that the Western Whirlwind scarcely expected.
Teeny-bits solemnly pulled off his coat, laid it on the bed, and replied
to the challenge.

"I won't wrestle with Turner," he said. "He's younger than I am. I'll
wrestle with you."

The action that took place during the next few minutes was not quickly
forgotten by the members of Ridgley School who were fortunate enough to
witness it. In their eyes, for the time being at least, it surpassed the
battle of the Marne.

Bassett made a scornful reply to Teeny-bits' challenge and let escape
the remark that he wasn't a "baby-killer" and wouldn't wrestle any
"bantams."

The words were still in his mouth when Teeny-bits launched himself upon
him. There was a brief collision and with a mighty thump Bassett, the
Whirlwind, hit the floor flat on his back.

A mighty howl went up from the onlookers; it carried to the farthest
corners of Gannett Hall,--and there was such a note of pure enjoyment
and hilarious surprise in it that every son of Ridgley upon whose ears
it fell wasted no time in abandoning whatever was at hand and dashing
madly to the scene of combat. As Bassett struggled to his feet all the
roomers in Gannett Hall began to converge on Teeny-bits' room, and by
the time the Western Whirlwind had thrown off his coat and laid hold on
his opponent again, they were crowding in at the door and craning their
necks to get a view of the fracas.

Bassett's face was the color of a ripe tomato; he considered that he had
been caught off his guard, and the hilarious shout of hi