“See here, you two fellows,” warned Bert angrily, “you want to be mighty careful what you say about me!  Do you understand?  A single unfriendly word, that does any injury to my reputation, and I’ll take it out of you.”

Prescott would not go to the length of sneering.  He allowed an amused twinkle to show in his eyes.

“On your way, Dodge that’s the best course for you,” advised Greg coldly.  “We’re not interested in your threats of fight, and you ought to know better, too, after some of the thumpings you’ve had.”

“Fight?” jeered Dodge harshly.  “You fellows seem to think you’re still in cadet barracks, and that all you have to do is to call me out, and that my only recourse is to put up an argument before a class scrap committee.  But you fellows aren’t at West Point just now, and cadet committees don’t run things here.  You’re back in civilization, where we have laws and regular courts.  Now, if I find that you fellows are saying a single word against me I’ll have you both arrested for criminal libel.  I’ll have you put through the courts, too, and sent to jail.  Then, when you get out of jail, you can find out what your high and mighty West Point friends think of that!”

Dodge finished with a harsh, sneering laugh, then turned on his heel.

“The cheap skate!” muttered Greg, looking after the retreating fellow.  “Humph!  I’d like to see him make any trouble for us!”

“He may try it,” muttered Prescott, gazing thoughtfully after their ancient enemy.

“How?” demanded Greg.  “We don’t think him worth talking about among decent people, so we’ll give him not the slightest chance to make any trouble.”

“We won’t give Dodge any real cause, of course,” nodded Dick gravely.  “But a scoundrel like Dodge doesn’t need real cause.  That young man has altogether more spending money than is good for his morals.  Why, with his money, Greg, Dodge would know how to find people, apparently respectable, who would be willing to accept a price for perjuring themselves.”

“Humph!” uttered Greg.

“If Dodge could get such testimony, and his perjurers would stick to their yarns,” continued Dick, “then the young scoundrel might be actually able to carry out his threats.”

“He wouldn’t dare!”

“If it were anything high-minded and dangerous, Dodge wouldn’t dare,” admitted Dick.  “But minds like his will dare a good deal to put through anything scoundrelly against people who try to be decent.”

CHAPTER III

DICK & CO.  AGAIN

“Hey, there, you galoot!  You thin, long-drawn-out seven feet of tin soldier!”

After having been home a week, Dick Prescott flushed as he wheeled about to meet this jeering greeting.

In another instant every trace of his wrath had vanished.

“Tom Reade!” hailed Dick in great delight, turning and rushing at his old High School chum.  “And good little Harry Hazelton!”