“Let that boy alone!” he said, sternly.

“What business is it of yours?” demanded Jim, doggedly; but he did not offer to renew the attack, however.

“It will be my business to put an end to your tyranny and bullying,” said Hector, undauntedly.  “If you dare to touch one of these boys, you will have to meet me as well.”

Jim had had enough of encountering Hector.  He did not care to make a humiliating spectacle of himself any more before his old flatterers.  But his resources were not at an end.

“You think yourself mighty smart!” he said, with what was intended to be withering sarcasm.  “You haven’t got through with me yet.”

He did not, however, offer to pursue the boy who had been the first to break away from his allegiance.  He put on his coat, and turned to walk toward the school, saying, “You’ll hear from me again, and that pretty soon!”

None of his late followers offered to accompany him.  He had come to the contest with a band of friends and supporters.  He left it alone.  Even Bates, his most devoted adherent, remained behind, and did not offer to accompany the discrowned and dethroned monarch.

“What’s Jim going to do?” asked Talbot.

“He’s going to tell old Sock, and get us all into trouble.”

“It’ll be a cowardly thing to do!” said Wilkins.  “He’s been fairly beaten in battle, and he ought to submit to it.”

“He won’t if he can help it.”

“I say, boys, three cheers for the new boy!” exclaimed Wilkins.

They were given with a will, and the boys pressed forward to shake the hand of the boy whose prowess they admired.

“Thank you, boys!” said Hector, “but I’d rather be congratulated on something else.  I would rather be a good scholar than a good fighter.”

But the boys were evidently of a different opinion, and elevated Hector straightway to the rank of a hero.

CHAPTER XIV.

Socrates calls Hector to account.

Jim Smith, as he walked back to the institute, nursing his wrath, felt very much like a dethroned king.  He was very anxious to be revenged upon Hector, but the lesson he had received made him cautious.  He must get him into trouble by some means.  Should he complain to his uncle?  It would involve the necessity of admitting his defeat, unless he could gloss over the story in some way.

This he decided to do.

On reaching the school he sought his dormitory, and carefully wiped away the blood from his face.  Then he combed his hair and arranged his dress, and sought his uncle.

Mr. Smith was at his desk, looking over his accounts, and estimating the profits of the half year, when his nephew made his appearance.

“Uncle Socrates, I’d like to speak to you.”

“Very well, James.  Proceed.”

“I want to complain of the new boy who came this morning.”