The fat boy wriggled ineffectively to free himself. “Aw, let me go, mister. I didn’t mean to hit you. I was tryin’ to hit him,” he begged, wagging his head toward Teddy.
“Let you go! I guess not, you young ruffian. Why don’t you pick a boy of your own size, if you want to fight?”
“I guess it was some my fault,” put in Teddy. “I ran into him, and he thought I did it on purpose. That’s why he was goin’ to fight me. Please don’t report him, mister. He didn’t mean to hit you. There isn’t a boy in this store that would do such a thing on purpose.”
Teddy’s black eyes were fastened on the man with desperate pleading. The fat boy stared at Teddy in amazed unbelief.
The man looked from one lad to the other. His grim face softened. He relaxed his hold on Howard’s arm. “I ought to report you both for fighting,” he said, “but I’ve a boy about your age at home. So I’ll let you go. You’d better be careful in future whom you hit. The next person might not see things as I do.” He turned abruptly and walked off in the opposite direction.
The belligerents watched him out of sight, then their glances met. The fat boy looked somewhat sheepish. Teddy was grinning broadly.
“I’m glad he had a boy of his own,” he commented.
“You got me into that mess, but you got me out of it, too,” said Howard slowly. “Say, honest, did you mean to upset my dinner that day?”
“Of course not,” sniffed Teddy, “but you had no business to try to stick me for five cents. That was just the same as stealing.”
The fat boy colored hotly. “I don’t know what made me do it,” he muttered. “You hadn’t any business to call me an elephant and Fatty Felix. I can’t help being fat any more’n you can help having red hair.”