A RATTLING FIGHT
"Hello, Bob! what kept you so late?" called Joe. He and Herb and Jimmy had
been waiting some time for their friend, and were beginning to think that
he must have forgotten the appointment made the previous night.
"It's a wonder I got here as soon as I did," replied Bob. His face was
flushed, and there was an angry gleam in his eyes. "I thought I'd have to
lick Carl Lutz before I could get here; but he didn't have quite nerve
enough to start anything, as he was all alone. I only wish he had."
"What happened?" asked Joe. "Tell us about it."
"When I came out this afternoon, Carl was standing just outside the
schoolyard gate, teasing that little Yates kid, whose brother was killed
in the Argonne fighting. If Bill had been alive, you can bet Carl would
have left the kid brother alone, but as it was, he was bullying him and
trying to make him carry a big package for him."
"Just like the big coward!" exclaimed Joe, indignantly.
"You said it!" replied Bob. "Well, of course, I wasn't going to stand for
anything like that, and I made him quit. He got so mad that I really
thought he was going to swing at me, but he didn't quite have the nerve.
He went off muttering something about getting the gang after me, and I
took the Yates kid with me for a few blocks to make sure that he would get
home all right."
"Good for you!" said Joe. "That's just like Carl, to pick on a kid that
has nobody to fight his battles for him and is too small to fight his own.
I'm glad you were around to take the kid's part."
"I suppose Carl will run right to Buck, now, and they'll hatch up some
scheme to get even with you," remarked Herb.
"I don't care what they do," returned Bob. "It's too bad there's a bunch
like that in this town. They're a regular nuisance."
"We've done all we could to teach them manners," said Joe. "I guess the
trouble is, they don't want to learn."
"Don't let's bother even thinking about them," said Bob. "Come on in and
we'll buy the stuff we need."
The four friends went on into the store, where they found several of their
schoolmates, bent on the same mission as themselves. All exchanged
greetings, and many good-natured jokes were bandied back and forth as
they made their purchases.
"You fellows will have to step lively to get ahead of me," said Lon
Beardsley, who was older than any of the radio boys and was in the senior
class at High School. He was one of the brightest boys in his class, and
the others knew that competition from him was not to be despised.
"Stepping fast is one of the best things we do," said, Bob, in answer to
this friendly challenge. "You may be some speed, but we're not such
slouches, either."
"Do your worst! We defy you!" cried Herb, striking a melodramatic
attitude.
"All right," said Lon, laughing. "Remember, though, I've given you fair
warning. I see you're buying vacuum tubes," he added, curiously. "You must
be going in pretty deep, aren't you?"
"Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies," parried Bob. "Besides,
we're not the only radio fans in this town, Lon. Maybe some one else will
beat us all out."
"Oh, I'm not worrying," said the other, as he prepared to leave with his
purchases. "Are you fellows going my way?"
"You'd better not wait for us," replied Bob. "We've got a few things to
get yet. See you at school to-morrow."
"Righto!" said Lon, and departed, whistling cheerfully.
The radio boys started home soon afterward, The days were getting very
short, and by the time they left the store the autumn evening was rapidly
fading into night. There was a crisp tang in the air which, together with
the smell of burning leaves, gave warning that winter was close at hand.
The last gorgeous colors of an autumn sunset still tinged the western rim
of the sky as the boys set out for home at a rapid pace.
Not far from their homes they struck off from the street through a vacant
lot, following a path that served as a short cut. The lot was overgrown
with weeds and high sunflower stalks, but the idea of an ambush never
entered the boys' heads until suddenly they were assailed by a shower of
stones, which sang viciously past their ears. Fortunately, it was too dark
for their assailants to throw the missiles with any accuracy, although the
boys were struck more than once.
For a moment, taken completely by surprise, they did not know which way to
turn nor what to do. But they were not of the type that hesitates long
before taking action. Their hidden assailants probably thought that they
would run, but this thought was furthest from their minds.
Bob noted from which direction the missiles were coming, and acted
accordingly.
"Come on, fellows!" he yelled, and, followed by his friends, charged into
the long dry stalks that fringed the path.
There was a sudden cessation in the volley of stones and a startled
rustling deep in the rank growth of weeds.
In grim silence the radio boys charged straight in the direction of this
sound, and such was the speed of their attack that their hidden
adversaries had no chance to make their escape before the boys were upon
them. It was now almost dark, but there was still enough light for the
boys to recognize the ungainly form of Buck Looker, in company with his
cronies. These three had been re-inforced by a boy of about Buck's age,
and of very much the same ugly disposition, known as Bud Hayes, whose
family had lately moved to Clintonia.
"Clean them up, fellows!" yelled Bob. "We'll teach them not to throw
stones again in a hurry!"
Each of the radio boys singled out an adversary, and a brisk melee ensued.
Seeing that they could not get away, the Looker crowd put up the best
fight they could. But the radio boys were wrought up to a high pitch of
anger by the cowardly attack on them, and they fought with a quiet and
grim determination that quickly put their adversaries on the defensive.
At first the high grass and weeds hampered all the combatants, but these
were soon trampled down as they fought savagely back and forth. Suddenly,
by some unfortunate accident, Herb tripped over some object lying on the
ground, and fell full length. With a cry of triumph, Bud Hayes, without
giving Herb a chance to get to his feet again, threw himself down on top
of him and started pommeling him for all he was worth. Stunned by his
fall, Herb at first could offer little resistance, and it would have gone
hard with him had not Bob observed his fall. He himself had engaged Buck
in combat, but as he saw Herb go down, he dealt Buck a staggering blow on
the point of the jaw and leaped to Herb's assistance.
Hot rage filled his heart and the wild thrill of combat tingled along
every nerve. With the strength and ferocity of a panther he hurled himself
at Bud Hayes, landing with such force that Bud was hurled several feet
away from the prostrate Herb, gasping for breath.
Bob himself landed on the ground, but was on his feet again quick as
lightning, glancing about him to see how it fared with his friends. Joe
was forcing Carl Lutz back step by step, while Jimmy had already forced
Terry Mooney to take to his heels. But even as Bob noted this in one quick
glance, both Bud and Buck, who had recovered by this time, rushed at him
from different directions. But before Buck could get too close quarters
Herb, who was recovering from the effect of his fall, stretched out a
foot, and Buck sprawled headlong, landing with such force that the breath
was knocked from his body.
Lutz and Hayes, seeing their leader fall, decided that it was time for
them to get away, and simultaneously they took to their heels. By this
time it had grown so dark that it was impossible to follow them, so the
boys were left in undisputed possession of the field.
Buck Looker, deserted by his cowardly friends, staggered to his feet, all
the fight knocked out of him. He was entirely at the mercy of the radio
boys, but they were not the kind to take advantage of this fact, although,
undoubtedly, had their positions been reversed, Buck would have had no
such scruples.
"Well, you've got me," growled Buck. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing," said Bob, a note of contempt in his voice. "The less we see of
you, Buck, the better we're satisfied. And your gang's no better than you
are. Look at the way they ran off and left you to take care of yourself.
You're dirty and they're dirty. We'll let you off this time with the
licking you've had already, but if you ever try any more low-down tricks
you won't get off so easily."
Buck muttered something to himself which he did not dare to voice aloud,
and slunk off with the manner of a cur who has just received a beating
that he knows he deserves. The radio boys groped their way back to the
path, where they had left their bundles, and resumed their way home,
keeping a wary eye out for any signs of a renewal of the attack by their
enemies.