THE RESULT OF AN UNEQUAL CONFLICT.
Buck Lamb evidently considered himself as more than a match for Paul
Bristol, for neither Walk Billcord nor his father had given the students
the particulars of the battle at Sandy Point. All the magnate said was
that he and his son had been insulted and assaulted by the ungrateful
son of the woman he had harbored on his land. Buck was a stout fellow,
who had the reputation of possessing scientific skill in the noble art
of pugilism, and who was ready for any fellow of his avoirdupois, either
with soft gloves or with hard gloves, or with no gloves at all.
Happily, Paul had no knowledge of the reputation of the bully, which the
more knowing of the students would have said was only reputation. In his
ignorance of the accredited accomplishments of Buck Lamb, Paul was not
in the least afraid of him. Possibly, though not probably, if he had
known what a bruiser the leader of the six ruffians claimed to be, he
would have taken to his heels and escaped in the best way he could, or
expressed his willingness to obey the imperative order of his assailant.
Buck not only intercepted his intended victim, but he levelled a blow
with his iron fist, as he called it, at the modest nose of Paul Bristol.
This was enough to satisfy the son of toil, who had often hoed corn and
potatoes in the garden near the corner, that his opponent meant
business. He parried the blow aimed at him successfully, and it was the
right time for him to have returned it; but Paul did not yet mean
business, for he was not a fighting character, and despised the whole
subject of pugilism. Instead of striking, he looked about him for the
means of escape, and discovered two more of the ruffians running with
all their might towards the scene of the encounter. They wore the
uniform of the barges of the institute, as did Buck and Ham. There was
no chance of escape, and Paul was beginning to get a glimmering idea of
the purpose of the assault. He concluded that the fellows before and
behind him were to punish him for what he had done the day before at
Sandy Point.
Buck Lamb did not wait for the second pair of the ruffians to join him;
and in that he made a bad mistake for himself. His blow had been
parried, and he began to think that his antagonist had some skill in the
sublime art of pugilism; in this he was again mistaken, for Paul had
never learned the first thing about it. He was fully roused, and he
aimed a second blow at Paul, which was not as successfully warded off as
the first had been, and he received a portion of its force in his right
cheek.
Perhaps this hit was needed to render Paul fully equal to the needs of
the occasion; at any rate, it roused all the tiger of his nature, and
then he was ready for anything that might come. He attempted to parry
the blow with his left arm; but as soon as the hit was felt on his
cheek, he struck a tremendous blow with his right hand. It was the
stroke of a son of toil, whose muscles had been hardened by constant
labor. It fell between the eyes of the bully, which seemed to be a
favorite locality for Paul.
The pugilist of the institute reeled backwards, and then fell over into
the dirt in the middle of the street. Doubtless he saw all the stars his
vision could encompass, and his ideas were awfully confused. At any
rate, he did not "come to time," but lay on the ground where he had
fallen.
Ham Jackson was appalled at the result of the first onslaught, which
was accomplished in a tenth part of the time it has taken to narrate it.
Perhaps he was not a pugilist; but it was certain from his actions that
he was not prepared for the state of things now existing. He seemed to
be quite as much bewildered as his companion in the dirt. But he
recovered himself more quickly, and rushed upon Paul with the apparent
intention of seizing him by the collar of his coat. But the son of toil
did not know what he meant, and only saw him coming. Without waiting to
inquire into his purpose Paul gave him the counterpart of the blow which
had upset Buck Lamb. The effect was precisely the same, and Ham went
over backwards.
The two students approaching from the rear were only a few rods distant,
and Paul did not wait for them to come any nearer. As he would gladly
have done in the first place, he took to his heels and ran as fast as he
could towards the main street. Before he reached it, he looked back to
see if his enemies were pursuing him. The two who had just come up with
their unhorsed companions were picking them up, and there was no effort
yet made to overtake him.
Paul slacked his speed to a walk, and as he approached the main street
he saw two more students in the barge uniform. The instant they
discovered him, they rushed to a position in front of him. One of them
commanded him to stop; but he declined to do so. One of them attempted
to seize the collar of his coat, and Paul felt obliged to hit again. His
blow was parried better than either of his former assailants had been
able to do it, but he repeated the attempt with success. The blood
spurted from the nose of the foremost student, but he was not upset by
the shock.
Both of them came upon him then, the second putting one of his feet
between Paul's legs while he was attending to the first, and tripping
him up. Down went the son of toil, and the two ruffians pounced upon him
with the intention of holding him till the rest of the party joined
them. But Paul did not hold still worth a cent; and with his great
strength he shook off his assailants.
The last couple were more plucky than the first had proved to be, and
they followed him up very closely. The victim rained blows upon them
without regard to the belt, hitting them where he could. He was furious,
and raging like a lion. It was a very uneven combat, and Paul was
rapidly exhausting himself. The second of his present antagonists used
his boots almost exclusively. He kicked the son of toil in the shins,
and labored to trip him up again. Just as Paul had given the one who
used fists a blow between the eyes, which upset him, the leg operator
succeeded, by an attack in the rear, in bringing the victim to the
ground.
As soon as Paul was down, Mad Twinker, who was the one who demonstrated
with his boots, jumped upon him, and clawed his fingers into the throat
of the unfortunate son of toil. Just at this moment the party from the
back street came up, and the two fresh ruffians assisted Mad in securing
the victim. They had obtained a couple of pieces of bedcord at the house
of the major, and they tied his arms behind him.
Paul was so exhausted that he could make no further resistance, and he
submitted to be bound. His breath was hardly shorter than that of his
last opponents, who were now wiping the blood from their faces. The
ruffians had earned their money, so far as the capture of the victim was
concerned; and it only remained for them to deliver the prisoner to
Major Billcord at Sandy Point.
Two of the ruffians went to a pump and wet their handkerchiefs, with
which they washed their own faces. Paul's handkerchief was taken from
his pocket, and the stains of blood were removed from his battered face.
In a few minutes they had wiped away the traces of the conflict. Then
two of the students, one on each side, took Paul by the arms and marched
him towards the wharf. When they came in sight of it, they saw that all
the barges were manned, and had pulled a short distance from the shore,
where they awaited the absent members of the crews. The Beech Hillers
had taken position off the end of the pier, while the Chesterfields were
near the land.
There was still quite a collection of people on the wharf, drawn thither
for the purpose of seeing the barges, and possibly expecting a race or a
fight, the latter being more probable in the opinion of the spectators;
the battles of the previous season having been duly reported in the
town. The Silver Moon, with Bissell and Dory in the standing-room, was
running with the wind on her beam for Scotch Bonnet. The six ruffians
halted when they came in sight of the wharf, and gathered around their
prisoner.
"This will never do," said Mad Twinker, shaking his head. "We can't take
him through that crowd of people on the wharf."
"That's so," replied Buck Lamb, who had lost some of his prestige since
his overthrow, and Mad Twinker had come to the front. "Four of us can
handle him well enough now. Jeff Monroe, and you, Steve Douglas, go and
get Bissell's four-oar boat."
"Bissell isn't there now," replied Jeff.
"Stop at his store as you go along, hire it for a couple of hours, and
get the key," continued Mad Twinker. "Pull up to the creek at the head
of the bay, and we will meet you there."
Though there appeared to be no one in the streets, for all the idlers
had gone down to the wharf, there were people in the houses. Among the
latter was Miss Susy Wellington, who had pulled an oar in the Marian.
She had gone home to change her wet dress for a dry one, and saw from
her chamber window the capture of Paul Bristol by the ruffians. She had
heard something in the boat about Paul's battle with Major Billcord and
his son, and she had some idea of the occasion of the assault upon the
son of toil.
While Mad Twinker and his fellow-ruffians were hurrying their prisoner
to the creek, she hastened down to the wharf. On her way she stopped at
Bissell's store, where she had worked with Lily Bristol. She learned
that her employer had gone off in the sloop again, and that some of the
Chesterfields had just hired the four-oar boat. She continued on her
way, and soon saw the two students in her employer's boat, pulling
rapidly towards the head of the bay. When she reached the end of the
wharf she waved her handkerchief to the Marian, and beckoned with all
her might with her hand.
Dick Short gave the order "Stern all!" and the barge backed up within
hail of the fair oarswoman. The coxswain asked her if she desired to
pull an oar in the barge again.
"We are waiting for Paul Bristol, and he ought to be on board by this
time," added Dick. "If he don't come, you can take his place."
"No, I thank you, Mr. Coxswain," replied Miss Susy, and she proceeded to
detail what she had seen from her window.
"Paul a prisoner!" exclaimed Dick, thoroughly aroused by the
intelligence. "Stand by! Give way lively!"
He ran the Marian under the stern of the Gildrock, and reported the
astounding intelligence to Commodore Chester.
"A prisoner!" exclaimed Oscar, startled by the news. "Where is he now?"
"Do you see that boat near the head of the bay? Two of the six fellows
who captured Paul were sent for the boat, while the others took him in
that direction."
"This looks like serious business. The Chesterfield barges both lie
between us and that small boat," continued Oscar Chester.
The Gildrock was hauled around so that the commodore could confer with
Thad Glovering. The details were repeated so that all the students in
the three barges heard the whole story.
"It looks as though the rascals were going to bring Paul off in that
boat, and put him on board of the Racer or the Dasher," which were the
names of the two Chesterfield barges.
"Then, if we pull up there in a hurry, we may be able to get him away
from them," added Thad Glovering.
"On the other hand, if the fellows in charge of the prisoner see our
barges coming, they will put Paul ashore."
It was a difficult point to settle.