“Don’t you get saucy!” warned Fred, edging in closer.  Bert Dodge veered around so that be could attack Dick from one side.

“It would be honoring you too much to talk to you in any vein,” Dick retorted sarcastically.  “You’re a pair of the most worthless rowdies in Gridley.”

“Go for him, Bert!” called Ripley.

“Why don’t you?” sneered Dick, making a leap forward, straight at Ripley.

Dodge swung in from behind, hitting Dick over the head.  But Prescott’s movement, in the same moment, made the blow only a glancing one.

Bump!  Dick landed on Fred Ripley’s nose with force and weight enough to make the lawyer’s son stagger.

“Pound his head off, Bert!” howled Ripley putting a hand to his injured nose.

But Dick wheeled just in time to avoid a treacherous blow from the rear.  With all the fury of the oppressed, Prescott leaped in, planting one foot heavily on some of Bert’s toes and striking a blow that landed over that indignant youth’s belt-line.  Bert fell back, panting.

“If you two have enough now,” remarked Dick more coolly, “I’ll pick up my package and go on about my business.”

“You can wager you won’t get away until we’ve settled with you!” snarled Dodge.  “Rip, never mind your nose.  Help me close in on this scamp and show him what we can do to a fellow that we don’t like.”

In another moment Dick was the center of a cyclone, or so it felt to him.  Both boys were larger and stronger, even if not quite as quick as he.  They rained blows upon him.

“Don’t try to holler,” jeered Fred Ripley.  “That won’t do you any good.  We’ll tell you when you’ve had enough.  Take it from us and never mind your own opinions.”

Dick did not answer.  Sore and winded, he fought with all the spirit that was in him.

So busy were all three of the boys, that none of them noted the approach of a light express wagon drawn by a single horse.  The driver hauled up, a few yards away, then advanced, driving whip in hand.

Slash!

“O-o-o-h!” yelled Fred Ripley, as he felt the whip land on his legs.

Slash! slash!

“Quit that, you fiend!” begged Bert Dodge, doubling up and screaming with pain.

“I’ll quit when I think you’ve had enough!” hissed Dave Darrin, his face ablaze with anger, his eyes flashing fire.

Slash! slash! slash!

Dave plied the whip relentlessly until he had inflicted half a dozen more blows on the legs of each High School boy.

“If you try to run away,” warned Dave, “either of you, I’ll run after you and lay on ten times as much as I’m giving you.”

“Quit, now, Dave,” urged Dick, running to his chum and laying a hand on Darrin’s active right arm.  “They’ve had lots—–­plenty.  Such things as they, can’t stand a man’s dose.”

“I’m not a bit tired,” retorted Dave ironically.  “Besides, I rather enjoy this exercise.”