“Oh, he’s a bad egg!” growled the Irish boy.

“You only say that because he called you down last week,” put in Frank.  He referred to a tilt between the new pupil and the colored man.  Jim Caven had tried to be “smart” and had gotten the worst of the encounter.

“Yes, I think he’s as honest as you are!” burst out Tom, before he had stopped to think twice.

“What! do you call me a thief!” roared Jim Caven, and leaped upon Tom, with his face as white as the wall.  “I’ll make you smart for that!”

One blow landed on Tom’s cheek and another was about to follow, when Tom dodged and came up under Caven’s left arm.  Then the two boys faced each other angrily.

“A fight!  Fight!” cried a number of the cadets, and in a twinkle a ring was formed around the two contestants.

“I’m going to give you the worst thrashing you ever had,” said Caven, but in rather a nervous tone.

“All right, Caven, go ahead and do it,” cried Tom.  “I will stand up for Aleck Pop, and there you are!”

Tom launched forth and caught Caven on the right cheek.  The Irish lad also struck out, but the blow fell short.  Then the two boys clinched.

“Break away there!” cried Frank.  “Break away!”

“I’ll break his head!” panted Caven.  “How do you like that?” And he held Tom with one hand and hit him in the neck with the other.

The blow was a telling one, and for a brief instant Tom was dazed.  But then he caught his second wind and threw Caven backward.  Before the Irish lad could recover his balance, Tom struck him in the nose, and over rolled his opponent.

A shout went up.  “Good for Tom Rover!  That was a telling blow!  I Keep it up!”

“I’ll fix you!” gasped Jim Caven, as soon as he could speak.  “I’ll fix you!” and staggering to his feet, he glanced around for some weapon.  Nothing met his view but a garden spade which Peleg Snuggers had been using, and catching this up he ran for Tom as if to lay him low forever.

“Caven, none of that!  Fight fair!”

“He shan’t call me a thief!” growled the Irish boy.  “I’ll show him!” And he aimed a tremendous blow for Tom’s head.

Had the spade fallen as intended Tom’s cranium might have been split in twain.  But now both Dick and Frank caught the unreasonable youth and held him while Sam and several others took the spade away.

“Stop it —­ here comes Mr. Strong!” came the unexpected cry from some outsiders.

“Yes, give it up, Tom,” whispered Sam.

“We’re in hot water enough, on account of that feast.”

“I’ll give it up if Caven is willing,” muttered

“I’ll meet you another time,” answered Caven, and walked rapidly away.

“What is the row here?” demanded George Strong, as he strode up.

“Nothing, sir,” said one of the boy.  “Some of the fellows were wrestling for possession of that spade.”