CHAPTER VIII.
ROY MAKES AN ENEMY.
In the meantime Roy had skillfully avoided Dan Cassell's blow, and was aggressively on the defensive. He was a lad who did not care for fighting, but notwithstanding was a trained boxer. Something of this seemed to dawn on Dan Cassell as the boy he sought to pummel dodged his attack with such cleverness.
For a moment Dan stood stock-still with doubled up fists and a scowl on his not unhandsome, though weak and vicious features. Then, with a bellow, he rushed upon Roy, who contented himself by sidestepping the furious onslaught.
This appeared to enrage Dan Cassell the more. Either he interpreted it as portraying cowardice, or else he deemed that he had his opponent at his mercy. At any rate, after an instant's pause he rushed at Roy with both fists. It was the young aviator's opportunity.
"Look out!" he warned.
The next instant the pugnacious Dan Cassell found himself upon his back, regarding a multitude of constellations.
At almost precisely the same time Jimsy's fist happened to collide with the point of the jaw of the fallen battler's father.
"Sorry; but I simply had to, you know," remarked the nonchalant Jimsy, as the red-faced man found himself occupying a position not dissimilar to that of his son.
Both boys were heartily sorry for what had happened, the more so for the reason that at the very instant that both crestfallen bullies were scrambling to their feet the hotel door opened and several of the guests came out to ascertain the cause of the trouble.
Among them was Jonas Hardcastle, the proprietor of the place.
"What's up? What's the trouble?" he demanded, in dismay, as he viewed the scene of the confusion.
"It's those brats of aviators, or whatever they call themselves," bellowed Cassell, who was purple with fury; "they attacked Dan and me and assaulted us brutally."
The landlord looked doubtingly at the man. Then he turned to Roy.
"What are the facts?" he asked.
Roy told him unhesitatingly the whole truth. When he had concluded Jonas Hardcastle spoke.
"You've been hanging around here too long, Jim Cassell," he said, in a voice that quivered with indignation; "now make yourself scarce, both you and your son. Don't annoy my guests any more."
Cassell, nursing a spot on his jaw which was rapidly growing a beautiful plum color, lurched off without a word. His son followed. It was not until he reached the street that he spoke. Then, in a voice that trembled from suppressed fury, he hissed out:
"All right for you kids. You think you've played a smart trick on Dan and me; but I'll fix you! Just watch!"
Without uttering another syllable he slouched off into the gathering darkness, followed by his son, who bestowed a parting scowl on Roy and Jimsy.
"I'm sorry that you had a row with them," remarked Jonas Hardcastle, as the pair vanished.
"How's that?" inquired Roy. "They forced it on us, and—" "I know. I know all about that," was the rejoinder, "but Cassell is quite by way of being a politician hereabouts, and he might try to make it uncomfortable for you."
"In what way?" demanded Jimsy.
"Oh, many ways. Those fellows have no scruples. To tell you the truth, boys, I guess you haven't heard the last of this."
With this he left them, a prey to no very comfortable thoughts.
"I'm half inclined to believe what he said," declared Jimsy.
"In just what way?"
"Why, about the harm this fellow Cassell can do us. In every community like this you'll find one local 'Pooh-bah' who runs things pretty much as he likes. They have satellites who will do just about as they're told."
"You mean—" "That we'd better keep a good lookout on the aëroplanes. From my judgment of Cassell I don't think he's got nerve enough to attack us directly, but he can wreak his vengeance on our machines if we don't watch pretty closely."
"I'm inclined to think you're right. But don't say a word of all this to the girls. It might upset them. You and I will decide on a plan of action later on. To tell you the truth, I'm not any too sure of our newly acquired watchman, Tam Tammas."
"Nor I. We'll wait till the rest get back and then take a stroll down to that livery stable. Seems funny, doesn't it, to stable aëroplanes in a livery stable?"
"Well, why not? Wasn't Pegasus, the first flying machine on record, a horse?"
"Humph; that's so," agreed Jimsy, whose supply of classical knowledge was none too plentiful.
It was not long after this that the girls returned. With them came The Wren in a neat dress and new shoes, an altogether different looking little personage from the waif of the woods whom they had rescued at noon.
"Why, Wren," cried Peggy, "you are positively pretty. In a month's time we won't know you."
"A month's time?" sighed the child; "am I going to stay with you as long as that?"
Miss Prescott caught the wan little figure in her arms.
"Yes, and many months after that," she cried.
Roy and Jimsy exchanged glances.
"Another member of the family," exclaimed Roy; "if we go at this rate we'll have acquired an entire set of new sisters by the time we reach the Big Smokies."