"Will you do as I told you to?" demanded Dave, not budging from his position.
"Where do you want me to go?"
"Down into this woods a short distance—away from the roadhouse and the road."
"What for?"
"I'll tell you that when we get there."
Fearing some of his ribs might be broken, Merwell said he would do as Dave desired, and the latter allowed him to rise, but kept a close watch on his every movement. Plum could now see that the boy from Crumville was in deadly earnest and felt it would be useless to talk or interfere, and so followed the two into the woods in silence. Dave brought Merwell to a halt in a little glade surrounded by hemlocks.
"Now, sit down on that stone while I talk to you, Link Merwell," said Dave, pointing to a flat rock. "I shan't take long, but you'll find it to your interest to listen closely to every word I say." And with his handkerchief to the eye that was rapidly closing, the bully sat down.
"In the past you've made a lot of trouble for me and my friends," commenced Dave. "You were in league with some others to play me foul at every opportunity. You sent a letter to Roger Morr about me, and another letter to Crumville, to a young lady friend of mine—and you also sent a letter to my sister." At these last words Merwell's hand went up unconsciously to his breast-pocket. "You have blackened my character all you possibly could. Now, if I wanted to, I could place you in the hands of the law. But instead, I am going to take it out of you."
"Wha—what do you mean?" And the bully half arose to his feet.
"I mean just what I say, Merwell. Sit down!" And Dave shoved the bully back on the rock.