CHAPTER III

BOB HAS A FIGHT

Frank Wernberg was a stocky, light-haired boy with blue eyes and a pink

and white complexion; that is, it was usually pink and white, though this

morning his face was flushed and red. His eyes had a glint in them not

usually apparent and his mouth was drawn down at the corners into a

scowl. His hair, close-cropped, seemed to bristle more than was its wont;

in fact his usual mild-mannered appearance had given way to one of

belligerency.

"Hello, Frank," said Bob pleasantly.

"Hello," said Frank shortly.

"What's the matter?" inquired Hugh. "You seem to have a grouch."

Something was in the air and the boys felt uneasy in one another's

presence. Usually they laughed and joked incessantly, and Frank Wernberg

was one of the jolliest boys in the school. He was inclined to be stout

and like most fat people was full of fun as a rule. This morning,

however, his demeanor was far from happy.

"Why shouldn't I have a grouch?" he demanded angrily. "I've just been

talking to that chump, Jim Scott. He seems to think that any one who

disagrees with him must be wrong."

Bob nudged Hugh. "What was the argument?" he asked.

"The war," said Frank bitterly. "I said I thought Germany was all

right, and he tried to lecture me about it. Hasn't a fellow a right to

his own opinion?"

"Sure he has," exclaimed Bob. "Any one can think Germany is all right if

he wants to, but no one who is an American can side with Germany against

the United States at a time like this."

"Who says they can't?" demanded Frank flaring up.

"I say so," exclaimed Bob.

"Who are you to tell others what they can do?"

"I'm an American, anyway."

"Well, I'm a better American than you are," cried Frank hotly.

"And you stand up for Germany now?"

"I do, because Germany is right and America is wrong."

The three boys were standing in one corner of the school yard, removed

from all the others so that the rapidly rising tones of their voices

passed unheard. Their faces were now white and their breath came fast.

Hugh had taken no part in the argument thus far, but he stood shoulder to

shoulder with Bob, prepared for any emergency.

"And what's more," exclaimed Frank, "this country was forced into war by

a lot of men who want to make money out of it."

"You're crazy," said Bob.

"No, I'm not crazy either. Some of those men live right in this town too.

I guess you know who I mean all right."

"What do you mean?" demanded Bob in a tense voice. "Name somebody. I

suppose the fact that Germany has murdered a lot of Americans has nothing

to do with our going to war."

"Certainly not," said Frank. "It's the men who want to make money."

"Who says so?"

"I say so, and so does my father."

"Huh!" sniffled Bob. "Name one of the men."

"They may get fooled," said Frank darkly. "Something might happen to

their factories and they'd lose money instead of making it."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, you know all right."

"He hasn't named anybody yet," Hugh reminded his friend.

"That's right," exclaimed Bob. "Who are they, Frank?"

"Well," said Frank, "one of the men who thinks he is going to make a lot

of money but who may get fooled is--"

"Go on," urged Bob, as Frank hesitated.

"Your father!" snapped Frank suddenly.

Quick as a flash Bob's right arm shot out and his clenched fist caught

Frank squarely on the nose. Hugh started forward as if to help his

friend, but Bob waved him aside. "This is my affair," he panted.

Whatever else he was, Frank was no coward. Blood was already trickling

from his nose and the force of the blow he had received brought tears to

his eyes. He recovered himself almost immediately, however, and with head

down rushed at Bob. Bob was waiting for him and sent a crushing blow to

his opponent's jaw. Again Frank staggered back, but a moment later

advanced for more.

He was more wary this time, however, and several of Bob's blows missed

their mark. The boys danced about, each sparring for an opening. They

were of almost equal size and weight, though Frank was probably a better

boxer. Bob, however, was furiously though quietly angry, and convinced

that the right was on his side had an advantage to that extent. Meanwhile

the rest of the boys, attracted by the noise of the combat were running

from all directions to get a close view of the fight. They quickly formed

a ring around the two combatants and urged their favorites on. Most of

them cheered for Bob, he being popular with all, while Frank had not so

many friends.

Bob lowered his guard for an instant, and Frank was quick to take

advantage of the opportunity offered. He dealt Bob a staggering blow

directly over the left eye; a ring on his finger broke the skin and blood

flowed into Bob's eyes, while a swelling appeared almost immediately. He

felt no pain, however, and with a yell of rage he rushed at his opponent.

He had thrown caution to the winds and consequently Frank drove home two

more good stiff punches to Bob's wet and bleeding face. Nothing daunted

Bob clinched and swaying back and forth for a moment they presently fell

to the ground. Over and over in the dust they rolled, each one trying

desperately to get his arms free. The crowd cheered wildly and moved back

to give more room to the fighters.

Presently the spectators saw that Bob was on top. He was in better

physical condition than Frank and this fact was beginning to count. Frank

was short of wind and puffing hard. Bob sat astride him, holding him

pinned to the earth with both knees while he pounded his head up and down

on the ground.

"Lemme up," said Frank weakly.

Bob bumped him once or twice more for good measure. "Had enough?" he

asked.

"Yes," gasped Frank, while the spectators yelled their approval.

Suddenly the cheering stopped and a gap appeared in the ranks of the

onlookers. The principal of the school came running toward the spot where

the fight had occurred.

"What does this mean?" he demanded, much out of breath.

The two fighters picked themselves up slowly. They were smeared with

dirt and blood. Bob's collar was torn and Frank's coat was almost

ripped from his back. Bob's left eye was half closed and rapidly

turning black; Frank's nose was swollen and the skin all scraped off

the side of his jaw.

"We had a fight, sir," said Bob.

"So I see," said the principal, while the crowd snickered.

"He started it," exclaimed Frank.

"I did not," cried Bob hotly, turning half way around as if he was

considering pitching into his opponent again.

"We won't discuss that question here," said the principal. "The best

thing for you two boys to do is to get cleaned up and then come and see

me in my office."

He turned away, slowly followed by Bob and Frank and all the rest of the

spectators. "Good boy, Bob," whispered Hugh in his friend's ear. "You did

him up all right and he deserved it too." Many others also took occasion

to show Bob that they heartily approved of what he had done.

A short time later Frank and Bob stood before Mr. Hewitt, the

principal. He was a kindly man and well liked by all the boys, even if

they did love to imitate the way he had of looking at them over his

spectacles. He was always fair to every one and the boys knew they

could expect to be treated justly by him at all times. They respected

him and looked up to him.

"Well, boys," said Mr. Hewitt, "I'm sorry you had a difference of

opinion."

"That's just what it was, sir," exclaimed Bob quickly.

"Haven't I a right to opinion?" demanded Frank.

"What is your opinion?" inquired Mr. Hewitt.

"Well," said Frank slowly, "I say that the United States is wrong about

going to war with Germany."

Mr. Hewitt glanced at Frank over his spectacles. "I'm afraid I can't

agree with you, Frank," he said. "I don't like war and I don't believe

many of our people do either. There is a limit to any country's

patience, however."

"Some people here want war," said Frank.

"Yes," exclaimed Bob. "He said that my father wanted war so he could make

money out of it."

"He's making ammunition for the Government," Frank exclaimed.

"But at cost price," said Bob. "He will lose money if anything."

"I have always regarded Mr. Cook as one of our best citizens and a fine

man," said Mr. Hewitt. "I think you must be wrong, Frank."

"I tried to convince him that he was," said Bob, stealing a sidelong

glance at Frank's battered features. Mr. Hewitt also looked at Frank and

a faint smile flitted across his face.

"People should be careful about what they do and say these days," he

advised. "You are very wrong to talk against the United States, Frank."

"I only repeated what my father says," exclaimed Frank. "He knows."

"I'm sure he's mistaken this time," said Mr. Hewitt quietly. "I also hope

he won't talk like that again; people's feelings are easily aroused in

times of war and he might suffer harm."

Frank looked sullenly at the floor and said nothing. Bob held out his

hand to him. "Let's shake hands," he said. "We all ought to work together

now. I'll forget this morning if you will."

Frank made no move. "Come on, Frank," urged Mr. Hewitt. "Do as Bob says,

and in the future try to remember that you were born in America, not in

Germany. You were born here, weren't you?"

"No, sir," said Frank. "I was born in Germany."

"Well, at any rate remember that you are living in the United States.

Shake hands and go back to your work, and I hope you will have no

further trouble."

Frank somewhat reluctantly shook hands with Bob and they walked out of

the principal's office together. At the door of the study room Frank

turned to Bob. "I shook hands with you then because I had to," he

snapped. "I warn you though, I'll never do it again, and you'll be sorry

for what you did to me this morning. Yes, you and your whole family!"

Bob was completely taken aback by this sudden outburst but before he

could make any reply Frank was gone. Bob walked slowly to his desk,

carefully avoiding the glances of the many boys in the room who looked

curiously at him and his black, swollen eye.

When school closed that afternoon he hurried away as quickly as he could,

for he had no desire to discuss the matter with his schoolmates. Around

the corner he waited for Hugh and together the two boys started homeward.

"What did Mr. Hewitt say?" asked Hugh.

Bob told him.

"Good for him," exclaimed Hugh. "What did Frank think of that?"

"He was mad," said Bob, and he told his friend of the threat Frank had

made. Hugh was silent for some time.

"We must watch him pretty closely," he said at length.

"Yes," Bob agreed, "and his father too."

Bob Cook and the German Spy · 第 3 / 28 章