Ben sat still. The kicks were futile. With such a heavy weight breathing was a difficult matter.
"You—you—if you'd said fight I'd a-known——" and Perkins gasped.
"Oh, let up, Ben. You've licked him! We didn't think 'twas in you. Come—fair play."
"There's a good deal in me," cried Ben sturdily. "And I'm going to sit here all night till Perkins begs. I've a good seat. You boys keep out. 'Tisn't your fight. And you all know I hate fighting. It may do for wild animals in a jungle."
Ben's lip was swelling a little. A tooth had cut into it. But his eyes were clear and sparkling and his whole face was resolute. Perkins' attempts at freeing his hands grew more feeble.
"Boys, can't you help a fellow?"
"'Twas a fair thing, Perk. You may as well own up beat. Come, no snivelling."
Quite a crowd was gathering. There was no policeman to interfere.
Perkins made a reluctant concession. Ben sprang up and was off like a shot. His mother met him at the door.
"Go up-stairs and put on your best clothes, Ben," she said, "and take those down to the barn." She knew he had come off victor.