“Why, I wanted to make a little wager with Ranger about rowing him again, but he’s afraid.”
“It isn’t that, and you know it,” retorted our hero quickly, for he overheard what Snaith said. “And I don’t want you to go about circulating such a report, either, Dock Snaith.”
With flashing eyes and clenched fists Jack took a step toward the bully.
“Oh, well, I didn’t mean anything,” stammered Snaith. “You needn’t be so all-fired touchy!”
“I’m not, but I won’t stand for having that said about me. I’ll race you for fun, and you know it. Say the word.”
“Well—some other time, maybe,” muttered Snaith, as he strolled off with his two cronies.
It was that afternoon when Jack, with Nat Anderson, walking down a path that led to the lake, came upon a scene that made them stop, and which, later, was productive of unexpected results.
The two friends saw Dock Snaith, together with Pud Armstrong and Glen Forker, facing the new boy, Will Williams. They had him in a corner of a fence, near the lake, and from the high words that came to Jack and Nat, it indicated that a quarrel was in progress.
“What’s up?” asked Nat.