“I hope not,” said Dick. “He ought to be satisfied.”
“I ain’t satisfied!” grated Jack. “I never had nobody do me up before, and I won’t forget this!”
“It’s an outrage!” declared old John, flourishing his fists in the air and glaring around. “I say it’s an outrage, Henry Duncan!”
“You brought it on your son, sir,” said Duncan coldly. “You came here and forced the encounter. Merriwell was considerate with your son until he saw it was Jack’s purpose to do him injury.”
“He couldn’t do up my boy again in a year!” snapped the old man. “It was jest an accident, anyhow!”
“You mulish old ignoramus!” exclaimed Duncan, in exasperation he could not repress. “Only for you at the outset we would have retained these boys here as the Maplewood baseball team. You joined Hammerswell and backed him up when he refused to accept them. He used you as his tool. Are you satisfied with the result? When he became tired of your boy he kicked him off the Maplewood team. You’re a particularly offensive nuisance, John Cole. This clubhouse is on private grounds, and hereafter I wish you and your son to keep away from it. We don’t want you here. Perhaps that’s plain enough for you to understand.”
“Oh, yes, it’s plain enough!” snarled old John. “I understand all about you, Duncan! You think you’re mighty fine and aristocratic because you happened to get in with the summer folk who come here. You think you’re a lot better than us people who belong here.”
“That will do!” said Duncan. “I think your son is able to use his feet now. Take him and walk.”
Although old John seized Jack by the arm and they started away, he continued to splutter and snarl until he was quite out of hearing.
“I congratulate you, my boy,” said Mr. Duncan, as he placed his hand on Dick’s shoulder. “I confess I feared that strapping chap would be too much for you. You demonstrated that you knew more than he about the science of boxing, but until near the finish I didn’t fancy you could put him out. Your forbearance is creditable.”