Part 28 (1/2)

”Ye mean me?” he demanded, glaring.

”Yes, if you are the one who did it,” answered Tad, looking him squarely in the eyes.

”Then your going to git the alfiredest lickin' you ever had in your life,” announced the mountain boy.

Tad held the other with a gaze so steady and unflinching as to cause the mountain boy to pause hesitatingly.

”Phil, jump on your pony and get out of here,” directed the lad in a low tone.

”He stays where he is,” commanded one of the cowboys.

”Do as I tell you,” retorted Tad sharply. ”Be quick about it, too.”

A cowboy aimed a gun at Phil Simms.

”Try it, if ye want ter git touched up,” he warned. ”Bob, sail into the fresh kid,” he added, nodding his head toward Tad Butler.

”I'm not looking for a fight--I don't want to fight, but if that loafer comes near me I'll have to do the best I can,” answered Tad bravely. ”I don't expect to get fair play. I'll----”

”You'll git fair play and you'll git more besides,” called the previous speaker. ”Go to him, Bob.”

Bob lowered his head, sticking out his chin and a.s.suming a belligerent att.i.tude with eyes fixed on the slender figure of his opponent.

Tad was observing the mountain boy keenly, measuring him mentally, while young Simms, pale-faced and frightened, was leaning against his pony, which he had caught and was preparing to mount when he was stopped by the gun of the cowboy.

”See, you've got him rattled already, Bob,” shouted a cowman triumphantly. ”He'll be running in a minute.”

”Come away, Tad,” begged Philip.

”Keep quiet. Don't speak to me,” answered the lad, without turning his head toward his companion. Tad Butler's whole being was centered on the work that he knew was ahead of him.

He was angry. He felt that he had never been more so in his life, but not a trace of his emotion showed in his face or actions. If he ever had need of coolness, it was at this very moment. He did not know whether he would be able to master the raw-boned mountaineer or not.

The lad's training in athletics had been thorough, and his t.i.tle of champion wrestler of the high school in Chillicothe had been earned by hard work and persistent effort to make himself physically fit.

”He's all of twenty-five pounds heavier than I am,” decided the boy. ”I've got to try some tricks that he doesn't know about, if I hope to make any kind of showing.”

Bob was now approaching him with an ugly grin on his face. Tad's arms hung easily by his side.

”Come on, what are you waiting for?” Tad smiled.

With a bellow of rage, Bob rushed him.

Tad laughed, and stepping quickly to one side, thrust a foot between the bully's legs as he pa.s.sed. Bob landed flat on his face in the dust of the street.

The cowboys set up a roar of delight. It was sport, no matter who got the worst of it.

”Give them room,” shouted some one, as the men closed quickly about the combatants. ”Let the kids fight it out.”

These tactics were so new to Bob, that he did not know just what had happened to him. And when he had scrambled to his feet, he met the laughing face of Tad Butler, which enraged him past all control. This was exactly what Tad wanted.