“Go for that fellow on the grass, Ford:  I’ll take care of the long one.”

“You will,—­will you?”

Spat—­spat—­spat!

“Oh!  I see:  you don’t know how to box; weak in the arms too.  Better go home.”

The tall boy was stepping backwards quite rapidly, with one hand on his nose, and the other swinging wildly in the air above him; and Ford was keeping the “fellow on the grass” from getting up, when all the noise around them suddenly ceased.

“Dr. Brandegee!”

“Where?  Where?”

“Coming across the green, at the upper end.”

“He’s coming this way.”

Several of the late assailants started on a run at once; but Dab Kinzer had caught a sharp whisper from Frank Harley, and he shouted,—­

“No you won’t, Joe Hart!  Hold on, Fuz!  That other chap must stay too.  Give Dick back his groceries.”

“Dey’s hooked a pile ob ’em,” said Dick, his eyes dancing with triumph.  “Jes’ make ’em hand ober.”

“Do you mean to say we’ve been stealing?” fiercely demanded Joe.

“What, me? me, steal?” almost gasped Fuz.

“They wouldn’t do such a thing as that,” said Ford, not quite comprehending the situation.

“That’s it,” said Dab:  “let ’em empty their pockets”—­

Joe was indignantly turning inside out the side pockets of his neat “cut-away,” and a small, brown-paper-covered parcel dropped upon the ground.

“Dem’s de cloves,” shouted Dick, as he darted forward, and picked it up.

The fingers of Fuz almost unconsciously imitated those of his elder brother, and with a like result.

“Dat’s de cinnamon.  If de oder feller didn’t git de tea an’ de sal’ratus!  Whar’s de nutmegs?”

These, too, were forthcoming, as well as a paper of “indigo blue” for the next Monday’s washing, and other items which testified strongly as to “how much at a time” Mrs. Myers was in the habit of buying.

It was all over in less than half a minute, but Dick’s assailants looked very much as if they wanted to sink right down through the grass.

“Go home, Joseph,” said Ford; “go home, Foster.  I’ll write to your father that you’re out of these things at your boarding-house.  We buy all our groceries, where we live.”

“I never touched a thing,” roared Joe.  “Somebody put ’em in my pockets.”

“Don’t say any thing more, Joseph,” said Ford calmly.  “If you don’t get enough to eat, come over to our house:  we won’t let you starve.  Give you all the bluing you want too.”

They did not seem to need any just then; and there was such a crowd of boys gathering that they were glad to take Ford’s advice, and hurry away.  Even then a good deal more attention might have been paid them, all around, but for the excitement created in the mind of every boy who looked at the great strings of fish Dab and his friends had dropped when they went in to the rescue of Dick Lee.