so--I know it," said Tom coolly.

"Don't you fight him, Tom," said Sam, in alarm. "He only wants to get
you into trouble. He'd like nothing better than to see you lose your
position as lieutenant."

"He's afraid," sneered Lew Flapp. "All of you Rover boys are mere bags
of wind."

"I don't think you found Dick a bag of wind, Flapp."

"Yes, I did. Now you clear out and let Moss and me settle this affair
between us."

But this was not to be, for Harry Moss was already at the doorway of
the boathouse and now he retreated to a safe distance.

"If you hit Tom Rover, or Sam, I'll call Mr. Strong?" cried the little
cadet.

"Don't you do it," said Tom. "I am not afraid of Flapp."

"But he's so big, Tom."

"I don't care for that."

Tom had scarcely spoken when Lew Flapp, watching his opportunity,
leaped forward and planted a blow on his chin that sent him staggering
back into Sam's arms.

"Now come on, if you dare!" he cried.

"All right!" came from Tom, as he recovered. And like a flash he flew
at Lew Flapp, before Sam could do a thing to stop him. Blow after blow
was taken and given by each of the cadets, and Tom was hit in the
chest, on the shoulder, and in the left cheek. In return Flapp got one
in the right eye that almost closed up that optic and then came a blow
on the nose that made the blood spurt in all directions.

"Good for you, Tom!" cried Sam, dancing around, forgetful of what he
had just said about his brother getting into trouble. "That's the time
you did it. Now give him another!"

Again the two boys went at it and once more Tom was struck in the
shoulder. Then Lew Flapp aimed for Tom's face, but the latter ducked
and, recovering, hit the big boy a heavy blow in the chin that made his
teeth rattle and sent him staggering over the side of an upturned boat
and flat on his back.

"Hurrah!" cried Sam. "That was almost a knockout, Tom. Now give him to
understand--"

Sam broke off short, as a warning cry from Harry Moss reached his ears.
All eyes turned toward the doorway of the boathouse and a second later
George Strong, the head teacher, stepped into view.

CHAPTER XIV

GETTING READY FOR THE ENCAMPMENT

For fully ten seconds after the head teacher appeared nobody spoke. Lew
Flapp arose slowly to his feet, and bringing out his handkerchief
applied it to his bleeding nose.

"What does this mean?" demanded George Strong sternly.

"He--he pitched into me," faltered Flapp.

"That is