“Hooray!” yelled a gleeful boy in the throng.  “Say, ain’t he fine at jiu-jitsu, though?”

A yell of great joy went up from some of the boys, who are always delighted at seeing the larger fellow thrashed, especially when he is the one who has started the trouble.

“Don’t you think you’d better wait and cool down?” inquired Jack, dryly.  “You’re only making a show of yourself.”

That taunt stung Don into rising and squaring off, while his father looked unutterably disgusted and angry over the ridiculous turn affairs had taken.

“Benson’s advice is good—­sound,” approved Lawyer Demarest, stepping in.  “Don, you’re no match for your opponent, at least not in your present temper.  Don’t try to carry this any further.”

“Do you think I’m going to let this young mucker make a fool of me?” demanded the Melville youth, huskily.  “I’ve just got to settle with him.”

“Yes, yes, Don; stop this.  It’s unseemly,” insisted his father, red-faced through his humiliation.  “Come on!”

Mr. Melville’s other friends also interposed.  Don, surrounded, yet not very anxious to carry the fight on any further, chafed hopelessly.  Jack Benson, seeing the new turn of affairs, and realizing how ridiculous his foe must feel, turned to Hal to say: 

“I guess we’re not needed here any longer.  Come on.”

“As for you, Benson,” choked the elder Melville, “we shall see what can be done about this.  You ought to be arrested.”

Jack’s only answer was a tantalizing grin, after which he turned, his back, as he and his mates started off up the street, followed by a little cheer from some of the boys gathered there.

“What can the law do about this?” demanded the elder Melville of the lawyer, in a low tone.

“A warrant could be issued against your son for disturbing the peace,” came the disgusted reply of Lawyer Demarest.  “As for Benson, all he did was to protect himself when insulted and assaulted unjustly.  It was a disgraceful affair, my dear sir.  Now, let us get away from here before we’re exposed to more ridicule.”

Neither Mr. Farnum nor Mr. Pollard had said a word.  Now, smiling quietly, they returned to the yard.  The crowd broke up.  The Melville party kept on to the hotel of Jabez Holt not far away.

CHAPTER VI

THE “POLLARD” HAS A RIVAL

Capital, backed by energy, can often accomplish wonders.

On the next day after the Melville squall in the boatyard office, Jacob Farnum, looking out of a window, and through the open gateway, saw three heavily-laden lumber trucks go by.

“That looks like a good deal for little Dunhaven,” he thought to himself.  “I wonder what’s happening?”

His horse and buggy were in the yard.  The young owner presently went out and got into his vehicle, driving slowly along the street to the northward.