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The Grammar School Boys of Gridley, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 20. Dick's Accuser Gets Two Answers |
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_ CHAPTER XX. DICK'S ACCUSER GETS TWO ANSWERS Dick took a step forward, his face grave but his eyes steady as he faced his accuser. "Ben, I know you're sore, but if you say that I, or any of my friends told on you, then you're going too far." "You did!" asserted young Alvord. "You blabbed!" "I didn't, and we didn't; not one of us." "That's all right to say after you're caught," flared Ben. "Then you call us liars?" flashed Dave Darrin, pushing his way forward, his fists clenched. "You are, if you say you didn't blab!" panted Ben. "Fight! fight!" chorused some of the boys. "Get back, Dave, and keep cool," warned Dick, pushing his chum to the rear. "This thing started with me, and it's my affair first of all. Ben Alvord, look at me! I don't want to fight. I don't believe in fighting when it can be helped. I know you're sore, too, for you've just had a rough time of it after what you thought was fun on Hallowe'en. But you're going too far when you say we blabbed on you, for we didn't." "Who did, then?" sneered Ben. "I don't know. I'm not the chief of police. But, just because you can't think who told on you, you needn't come along and accuse us." "I say you did tell--you or some of your gang!" retorted Ben. "It sounds likely enough. No one else knew," muttered a boy on the outskirts of the crowd. "Of course Dick Prescott or some of his gang told on us," insisted Ben Alvord angrily. Dick took a step closer to his accuser. "Then, Ben, you're a liar!" Prescott announced coolly. "Punch him!" urged another boy, giving Ben a shove toward Dick. "You bet I will!" snapped Alvord. "I don't allow a sneak to call me a liar." "You can have a fight, if you insist on it," agreed Dick promptly. "You can have it right away, too, and it will last as long as you want. But this is no place. Let's go up to the field where we used to practise football." "Whoop! Come on!" The crowd of Grammar School boys surged around the prospective fighters. A big procession started up the road. "See here, this whole crowd can't come. So many will get us into trouble," shouted Dave. "I'll name ten of Dick's friends, and Ben can name ten of his friends. No one else will be allowed to come." Dave quickly called off his list of boys. "Choose me, Ben!" "Choose me!" urged two score boys whom Dave had not named. Ben looked around, trying to select those whom he thought most friendly to himself. Then the procession started again, containing only the chosen ones. Others wanted to go, but knew they would be driven back by the selected twenty friends. The field was quickly reached. Ben Alvord was cooling, now. He would have drawn out of the fight, but knew that he couldn't get out without discredit. So Ben pulled off his jacket, took off his collar and tie and made ready. Dick, who was almost wholly free from anger, made similar preparations. After a good deal of disputing Hoof Sadby was agreed upon as a referee satisfactory to both sides. Dave, of course, seconded Dick, while Alvord chose Toby Ross. "Get your men forward," ordered Hoof. "Want to shake hands before you start?" "No," growled Ben sullenly. "Time, then! Get busy!" Dick threw himself on guard. He was not an amazingly good boxer, but he had been through a few schoolboy fights. "I'll knock your head off and wind it up!" blazed Ben, darting forward. Instead of carrying out his programme, Ben received a blow on the nose that staggered him. "No fair!" howled Ben, retreating. "I hadn't my guard up." "Your fault, then," mocked Dick. "All fair," chimed in Hoof. "Stop talking and mix it up." Ben soon advanced once more, rather disconcerted by the wholly steady bearing of Dick Prescott. This time Alvord tried to foul by hitting below the belt. Dick sidestepped and drove in a blow against Ben's left eye. "My! That was a socker!" yelled some of the spectators. "You're hitting too hard. It ain't fair," wailed Ben, backing off. "If all you want is gymnastics you don't need me," mocked Dick. "Fight, if you're going to. If you're not, then get out of this." "Mix it up!" ordered Hoof tersely, and the crowd took up the cry. Ben suddenly let loose. For a few moments he kept young Prescott pretty busy. Not all of Ben's blows were fended off, either. Dick's face began to show red spots from the hard impacts of Alvord's tough little fists. "Good boy, Ben! Go in and wind up his clock!" came the gleeful advice. "You've got him started. Keep him going!" Just then a blow under the chin sent Ben down to the ground. "Keep back, Prescott. Don't hit him while he's down," cried several. But this Dick had no intention of doing. Panting slightly, he waited for Ben to get to his feet. This Alvord soon did, drawing away crouchingly. "Got enough?" hailed Dick. "I'll show you!" raged Ben, rushing forward. Dick met him half-way, in a leap. Now it was Prescott on the offensive, and he forced Ben all over the field, to the tune of encouraging yells. Ben tried to save his face, but couldn't. Then Dick hammered his body. Young Alvord lost all his coolness, and began to windmill his hands. That settled it, of course. Any boy who forsakes his guard to take to windmilling is as good as whipped. Dick watched his chance, then drove in a blow on Ben's jaw that felled him flat. "O-o-oh!" wailed Ben, holding to his jaw with both hands. "Do you give it up?" demanded Hoof. "No!" "Then get up and go on with the fight." "I will when I'm ready." "You will, now, or I'll decide against you," warned Hoof. "That booby broke my jaw," groaned Ben. "You wag it pretty well, for a broken jaw," jeered Dave. "Get up, Ben!" "If you don't you're thrashed!" "Don't give up like a baby!" "Get up and fight," ordered Hoof. "One!" Ben lay on the ground, glaring about him in sullen silence. "Going to get up?" demanded Hoof. "Two!" "Oh, Ben, don't let Prescott whip you as easily as that," implored several of Alvord's backers. "Get up!" commanded Hoof, putting the toe of his boot lightly against Alvord's body. "Three!" Still Ben refused to stir. "Dick Prescott wins the fight," announced Hoof judicially. "Ben refused three times to get up and go on." As soon as Prescott began to don his discarded coat, Ben got to his feet. "Now, I have something to say to you, Alvord," announced Dave, going over to the worsted one. "You insulted six of us and called us liars. Dick is only one. You'll have to fight the rest of us, one a day, or else apologize before the crowd." "I won't apologize," glared Ben. "All right, then. You'll fight me after school to-morrow," Darrin declared. "And me the day after," challenged Greg Holmes. Reade, Dalzell and Hazelton all put in their claims for dates. "You think you're going to bully me, don't you?" grunted Ben. "No," Dave answered. "But when a fellow lies about me I'm going to make him fight or apologize." "I don't know whether I will fight you, or not," snarled Ben. "Then you'll get a thrashing just the same, and be called a coward by every decent fellow in school," flared Dave. Ben quailed a bit inwardly. He had had all the fighting he wanted for the present. "That Prescott fellow is no good, anyway," sniffed Ben, as he walked homeward with Toby Ross, the only one of the late spectators who had stood by him. "Well, may-be he didn't tell on us," suggested Toby. "'Course he did!" "Dick has always acted pretty decently." "Huh! If neither he nor any of his gang told, then who did?" demanded Ben, as though that settled it. "Ben Alvord, what have you been doing?" demanded his mother, as Ben showed up at the kitchen door. "Why?" "Your face is all bruised. Have you been fighting?" "Yes, ma'am. I had to. I thumped Dick Prescott for telling on us and getting us all arrested." "Did Dick say that he told on you?" asked Mrs. Alvord. "No, ma'am." "Denied it, didn't he?" "Yes'm." "And I guess Dick told the truth. I know who did tell on all you boys," announced his mother. "Who?" demanded Ben sullenly. "Your little brother, Will." Willie Alvord was only between four and five; not yet old enough to go to school. "I got it all out of the baby this afternoon," continued Mrs. Alvord. "I saw him playing with a new baseball bat, and I made him tell me where he got it. It seems that Willie heard you and Toby, and the other boys talking about your Hallowe'en pranks yesterday morning before you went to school. Then, later, Willie was out in the street playing, when 'a nice man'--as Willie called him--came along and got to talking with him. The man talked about you, it seems, Ben, and he made believe he didn't think Willie's big brother was very smart. Then Willie up and boasted of your smartness down at the railroad. The 'nice man' took Willie to the corner and bought him some candy and a baseball bat, and kept on talking about you and Toby, and the rest, and of course Willie told the 'nice man' all he'd heard about the railroad business." "That 'nice man' must have been the detective," growled Ben. "Oh, he's a real 'nice man.' If Willie was larger I'd take the baseball bat to him for talking too much!" "Well, you won't," warned his mother dryly. "Willie is only a baby, and didn't know what he was saying. But you'd better go and apologize to Dick Prescott." "Huh!" was Ben's undutiful retort. Then he went outside with Toby. "So Dick didn't tell?" mused Toby. "It was your kid brother?" "Don't you tell that to any one!" warned Ben Alvord, flushing. "Why, you'll have to tell it yourself," protested Toby. "You'll surely have to beg Dick Prescott's pardon after what you said to him before the whole crowd. If you don't, then I'll tell myself. I'm not going to see Dick blamed for what he didn't do." "If you blab to any one," warned Ben angrily, "I'll give you a good thrashing." "Try it, and perhaps you'll get more of what Dick gave you this afternoon," Toby shot back as he walked through the gate. Toby was as good as his word. He told the news at school the next day, and Ben Alvord's stock went even lower. After school that afternoon Dave Darrin made Ben apologize. So did Reade, Holmes, Hazelton and Dalzell. It was a bitter pill for young Alvord to swallow. The fights that the other chums had claimed were now called off. They felt Ben to be beneath their notice. _ |
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