Rosalind, screaming for help, ran to one side of the road. Dade jumped to his feet again, and, managing to fasten on the tough, the two went down together.
Then the whirring wheel stopped beside the struggling couple; and, as the rough pulled loose and tried to strike Dade in the face with the heavy brass key, a blow from Starbright’s big fist sent him reeling.
“Anodder college dude!” growled the ruffian, wheeling about. “Ye’ll wish’t ye’d kep’ out o’ this!”
His hand went to his hip-pocket, but he found no weapon. Then he gathered himself and made a spring at the newcomer. As a result, he ran his face into the big fist on the end of a long, straight, stiffened left arm. At the other end of the arm were something like two hundred pounds of hard-trained muscle and over six feet of young manhood.
A feeling of jarring surprise penetrated to the evil brain. It was not often that he ran against anything quite like that. He paused a moment to stare his surprise; and Dick saw that he was a big, brawny fellow, with heavy jaw, small head and piggish, wicked eyes, the type so often found in the lowest slums of great cities, but seldom seen in New Haven.
The effect of that blow rendered the man cautious.
“Dis ain’t your cut in, young feller!” he snarled.
Then, thinking to take Dick by surprise, he struck out suddenly, with the force of a piledriver. But his maul-like fist did not connect with Dick’s face, and the force of the blow almost threw him to the ground.
Crack! Dick’s hard right fist sounded like the smack of a board striking a house. The fellow reeled, but recovered. His head was like iron.
“W’en I gits me fingers onto ye, ye’ll wilt! See!”