DREER LOOKS ON
"There's Dreer now," said Clint softly.
"And Beaufort," added Penny.
"Who's he?"
"He lives the other side of the village. His father owned a lot of land
around here and made heaps of money selling it off. They call him 'Babe'
Beaufort; this fellow, I mean, not his father; probably because he's
so big."
"He looks like a walrus," commented Clint. Further confidences were
impossible, for the approaching couple were now within earshot and had
caught sight of the boys by the rock. Dreer spoke to Beaufort softly and
the latter turned a quick, curious look toward the boys under the ledge.
Then, without speaking, they passed on up the hill and out of sight
amongst the trees. Penny gave a sigh of relief.
"He's a scrapper, and I thought maybe Dreer would try to start
something," said Penny.
"Who is? Beaufort?"
[Illustration: "No, he won't!" exclaimed Clint, jumping to his feet]
"Yes, he's a sort of village bully. He's been in trouble two or three
times. His father has so much money 'Babe' thinks he's the whole thing
in Brimfield. He and Hatherton Williams had a row in front of the
post-office a couple of years ago and it took the whole police force to
separate them."
"What does the Brimfield police force consist of?" asked Clint with a
laugh. "One constable with a tin star?"
"Two," replied Penny, smiling. "We were sorry the cops butted in, for
Williams would have given him a fine licking, I guess. He's just the
sort of chap Dreer would naturally take up with."
"Listen!" commanded Clint. "They're coming back, I guess."
Someone was certainly approaching down the hill. Penny frowned.
"If it is they," said Clint anxiously, "don't have any words with them,
Durkin."
"Not me," replied Penny resolutely. "Can't afford to."
Just then Dreer and his friend came into sight. Clint watched hopefully.
They were headed straight down the slope and he was just going to lean
his head back against the rock again when Beaufort suddenly hunched his
shoulders and turned angrily toward Clint and Penny. "Here!" he
shouted. "What did you do that for?"
"Do what?" asked Clint in genuine surprise as Beaufort and Dreer, the
latter a good pace behind, strode toward them through the trees.
"You know what," replied "Babe" Beaufort with an ugly scowl that
increased his resemblance to a ferocious walrus. "You shied a stone at
me!" His eyes, however, fixed themselves on Penny.
"Shied a stone!" exclaimed Clint incredulously. "Why, we haven't moved.
Besides, there aren't any stones around here. And we couldn't have
thrown one through the trees if we'd tried."
"You keep out of this," said Beaufort. "When I want a lawyer I'll hire
one. This fellow here threw it and I saw him."
"Oh, no, you didn't," contradicted Clint, "for I was looking and your
head was turned away until you jumped. There wasn't any stone thrown,
and you know it. You're just trying to pick a scrap, Beaufort."
"Call me a liar, do you? I'll attend to you when I'm through with this
long-haired galoot!" Beaufort contemptuously kicked Penny's shoe.
"Get up and fight, you! You can't shy rocks at me and get away with it!"
Penny had so far said nothing, but, although there was a gravely amused
smile on his thin face, his eyes held a dangerous sparkle.
"It can't be done, Beaufort," he answered. "I'm not fighting today. You
come around the day after school closes in the Spring and I'll talk
with you."
"You're a coward," sneered the big youth. "You'll either get up and
fight or I'll kick you down the bank!"
Clint was too angry now to remain longer diplomatic. "You're a fine one,
Dreer," he declared hotly. "Why don't you fight your own battles and not
bring a hired bully to do it for you?"
"Hired bully!" exploded Beaufort, who was working himself into a fine
imitation of a rage. "For two cents I'd knock your head off, you
fresh kid!"
Harmon Dreer only smirked. "It's no business of mine," he said. "If you
fellows throw stones you've got to take the consequences, Thayer."
"When we do, we will, but you know well enough we didn't throw a stone,
Dreer. You're picking on Durkin because Byrd knocked you down the other
day. Why don't you go after him if you want trouble?"
"You keep out of this," said Beaufort. Then, turning to Penny again,
"Will you get up and take your licking?" he demanded.
"No, he won't!" exclaimed Clint, jumping to his feet. "If you've got to
fight someone, you fight me, you big overgrown bully!"
"Shut up, Thayer." Penny pulled his long length from the ground. "This
is none of your business."
"I'm making it my business," replied Clint hotly. "You keep out of it,
Durkin. I'll look after this fellow. If he wants a scrap he can have
it." Clint peeled off his coat and tossed it aside.
But Penny calmly and good-naturedly thrust him away. "It's my row,
Thayer," he said. "Thanks, just the same." He took off his coat and
vest, exposing a pair of purple cotton suspenders. "Throw those down
somewhere, will you? Look out for the watch in the vest."
"Don't be a fool, Durkin," begged Clint. "You can see it's a put-up job!
Let me attend to it, won't you?"
Penny shook his head. "No, I've got to do it," he answered. He turned to
Dreer. "Will you promise to keep mum about this?" he asked. "If you
don't promise, I won't fight."
"It's nothing to me," muttered Dreer, maintaining a safe position.
"All right. Remember that. If I ever find you've spoken of it I'll half
kill you, Dreer!"
"I guess I'd have something to say about that," said Dreer, blustering
weakly. Beaufort cut in impatiently.
"Aw, stow the gab!" he said. He tossed his coat aside and skimmed his
cap after it. "Come on, you runt, and take your medicine!"
For answer Penny sprang forward and landed a blow on Beaufort's shoulder
that almost upset him because of its unexpectedness. Beaufort grunted
angrily and swung back. But Penny was quick on his feet and handy with
his arms and the blow was blocked, and Beaufort's jab with his left fell
short. There was little space between the trees and the ledge, and what
there was was uneven and covered with leaves which made the footing
uncertain. It was long-distance sparring for a minute, during which time
the two boys, watching each other intently, stepped back and forth
across the little clearing, feinting and backing.
Beaufort looked to be fully eighteen and was heavily built, with wide
shoulders and hips and a deep chest. Clint, studying him, felt that one
of his blows from the shoulder, if it landed, would be more than enough
for poor Penny. Penny was of the same apparent age, but he was thin and
fragile looking beside the other. And yet he was certainly quicker of
movement and had an advantage in reach, and there was a certain careful
precision about Penny's movements that encouraged Clint. Dreer had moved
well away from the scene and was looking on with eager, excited face, a
cruel smile twisting his thin lips.
Suddenly Beaufort lunged forward with his right and then shot his second
under Penny's guard. The blow sent the latter staggering against a tree.
Fortunately, though, it had landed on his ribs, and after the first
instant of breathlessness, during which he managed to side-step further
punishment, he showed no damage. Again Beaufort feinted and swung, but
this time Penny sprang back out of the way. Then, before the other could
recover, he went into him, left, right and left again, and Beaufort gave
way. Only one blow took effect, but that reached the bigger boy's face
and brought a veritable howl of rage from him. Like a windmill, thick
arms swinging, he bored in to Penny. The latter retreated, guarding
well, but Beaufort's blows were heavy ones, the ground was slippery
with fallen leaves, and Penny, missing his footing, measured his length,
his head narrowly escaping collision with a tree as he fell. With a
grunt of triumph, Beaufort sprang toward him and aimed a blow. But
Clint, boiling with rage, dashed between.
"Let him up!" he cried.
"Get away!" growled Beaufort, leading at Clint. Clint swung his
shoulders aside and the blow passed harmlessly. Penny scrambled to
his feet.
"My fight, Beaufort!" he panted. "Let him alone!"
Beaufort turned to Penny again, and again they went at it. It was
in-fighting now. Short, quick jabs for the face and head followed each
other in rapid succession. Then they clinched, Beaufort's stout right
arm holding Penny against him and his left fist seeking lodgment against
Penny's face. But Penny, squirming, kept his head down and the blows
fell harmlessly on his skull. Then, wrenching himself free, Penny
stumbled out of the way, pale and dizzy. Beaufort plunged toward him
again wildly. Penny stood still then. A feint at the stomach, and
Beaufort for an instant dropped his guard. Then, and it all happened too
quickly for Clint to follow, Penny's left shot out, there was a grunt
from Beaufort, another lightning-like blow straight from Penny's
shoulder and the bully went down on his back, one big leg waving in air
as he tumbled. And in the same instant a voice, cold and measured, broke
the stillness.
"Durkin! That's enough of that!"
Mr. Daley and Mr. Conklin stepped onto the scene.