  Jared was heavily built and strong, but his science was nothing to boast of. Jared had never had the application to build himself up physically. Yet he was no mean opponent, as Rob saw. The leader of the Eagles was not as heavily muscled or as weighty as Jared, but he more than made up for it in his cat-like quickness and ability to spar. The farmer’s son saw this and realized that his best opportunity to put a quietus on his hated opponent was to land a heavy blow before Rob’s perfect training had a chance to assert itself. He rushed in wildly, determined to battle his way through Rob’s defense and beat him down by sheer weight and force. But in this he had reckoned altogether without his host. Rob cleverly dodged Jared’s savage swings, and, watching his opportunity, countered with amazing swiftness. None of the onlookers saw the blow, but they heard the sharp crack of Rob’s knuckles on Jared’s jaw. As for Jared, he beheld a swimming galaxy of brilliant constellations. Rob saw that he was dazed for an instant and dropped his hands to his side. “We’ll stop right here if you like, Jared,” he said. “Not much you won’t,” shouted Jared, shaking his head, “I’ve only begun.” “Well, don’t keep on the way you’re going,” laughed Merritt cheerfully. Jared’s friends began to look rather gloomy. In their hearts both Max Ramsay and Hodge Berry felt heartily glad that they hadn’t tackled the Boy Scout. Once more Jared rushed in on Rob. A second later his nose stopped a solid blow straight from the shoulder. It felt to Jared as if he had inadvertently collided with the rock of Gibraltar. “Ouch!” he yelled in spite of himself. Then, losing his head completely, he rushed at Rob and seized him in a wrestling grip. Rob, caught off his guard, lost his feet and the two toppled to the ground, going at it in rough-and-tumble fashion. “Magnificent, but not war!” cried Merritt as he danced about. Over and over they rolled, Jared managing in this style of battling to get in some heavy blows that caused Rob to gasp. But in a short time Rob had Jared fairly howling for mercy. “Help!” he bawled out, “take him away, you fellows! He’s not fighting fair.” “Don’t be a cry baby,” was all the consolation he got from his friends. “Give it to him hard.” Thus counseled, Jared made one last effort to triumph over Rob. He suddenly disengaged himself and jumped to his feet. Rob was up as quick as the other and met Jared’s last rush calmly. Jared, by this time, had lost his head utterly. He waved his arms wildly in a whirlwind of blows that Rob contented himself by ducking and dodging. He had no wish to punish Jared any more severely. Suddenly the battle came to an abrupt termination, and that through no effort of Rob’s. It had rained the week before, and back of the grandstand was a depression in which water had gathered in sufficient quantity to form a small pond. His wild evolutions had brought Jared close to the edge of this miniature lake. The ground there was muddy and slippery, and, before he knew what had happened, Jared’s feet slipped from under him. He staggered, clutching at the air to save himself; but although his friends rushed forward to help him, they were too late. With a mighty splash the luckless Jared toppled backward into the pond. He was helped out, a truly pitiable object; but even his friends could not help laughing at him. Plastered with mud and streaming with water, his enraged countenance excited nothing but mirth. “Come on,” said Max Ramsay as soon as he could for laughing, “we’ll get you to the buggy, Jared, and you can drive out home. Good thing you won’t have to go through the village.” “Shake hands, Jared,” exclaimed Rob impulsively, for the moment forgetting what they had overheard at the barn, in his sympathy for Jared’s plight. He extended his hand, but Jared dashed it furiously aside. “I’ll get even with you, you—you tin soldier!” he shouted, shaking with rage, and also with the chill of his immersion. “I’m sorry you feel that way about it,” rejoined Rob, as he turned aside and put on his coat, which Merritt had held for him. “Yes, and you’ll be sorrier yet,” snarled Jared, as his friends walked him off toward the shed where his buggy was tied. Just then, from across lots, there came a summons:— “Hey, Rob! Where have you got to?” “I’m coming right along,” was Rob’s reply; “wait a second.” He jammed on his cap and stepped out from behind the grandstand. Running toward him was Tubby, who had somehow escaped from his admirers. “What’s up?” cried Rob, as he saw the lad’s flushed, excited face. “Say, you know that note you left for Mr. Mainwaring?” “Yes.” “Well, he’s just got back. He’s over in that auto yonder and asked me to find you as soon as possible.” Tubby pointed to the road on the outskirts of the village, where a big torpedo-bodied auto was drawn up. In it was seated a man of past middle age, with iron-gray hair and keen eyes, who was watching the boys closely as they came toward him. As they drew nearer he got out of the car and addressed the chauffeur. “You needn’t wait for me, Manning. I’ll walk home,” he said. |
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