flowed from his chin and from a cut lip.

"I'll show you yet!" he hissed, and again went at Mont.

But our hero was cool and collected, while the bully was excited.

The bully got in one little body blow, but that was all, while our hero
fairly played all over his face.

"Better give it up, Hoke!"

"You are outclassed against Mont Folsom!"

"Let me be!" howled the bully.

With every blow that our hero delivered Ummer's anger increased.

His reputation, he felt, was at stake.

If he was beaten that would be the end of him, so far as bossing the
boys was concerned.

At last Mont hit him a stinging blow on the ear that caused him to roll
over and over.

CHAPTER IV.

ON THE ROAD.

The bully was knocked out completely, and had to acknowledge Mont the
victor of the encounter.

This he did with very bad grace, and a minute later sneaked off with his
toady.

"I'll get even for that," he growled. "He'll be sorry he ever tackled
me."

"You'll have to watch Hoke Ummer," said Link, some time later, when the
crowd had dispersed. "He is a treacherous fellow."

"I'll have my eyes open," returned our hero.

Yet little did he dream of the dastardly way in which the bully would
try to get even.

It did not take Mont long to settle down at Nautical Hall. The fight had
made him many friends, and established him as a sort of leader among a
certain set.

On the following Saturday Link proposed that he, Barry Powell, and Mont
take a stroll down to the village.

The others were willing, and soon the party was on the way.

"I'll get some stuff for a midnight feast while I am at it," said Mont.

Soon the school was left behind, and they came out on the village
highway.

"Hark!" cried Barry suddenly.

"What is it?" demanded Mont.

Barry was listening intently to a dull, heavy tramping sound, which was
wafted faintly toward them on the breeze.

"Do you hear that?" he asked excitedly.

Link and Mont listened, and could distinctly hear a low thud, thud, thud
in the distance.

"What does it mean?" Link asked.

"It means that a pair of ponies, or horses, have run away, and are
coming along at a tearing gallop."

As if in corroboration of Barry's words, at that moment a light phaeton,
drawn by two high-spirited ponies, which were pounding along at the top
of their speed, burst round the bend of the road.

The vehicle was rocking from side to side, and every moment threatened
to hurl it into one of t