“Thrash him.”
Dan threw back his head and laughed. “What good would that do?” he inquired. “Perhaps I couldn’t do it. He’s about the best boxer in school.”
“I’d risk it.”
“That’s good of you,” said Dan dryly. “My grandfather told me once that when he was a little fellow his older brothers tried to get him to rob a bumblebee’s nest they’d found in the hay-field. When he said he was afraid the bees would sting him, the boys told him to go ahead, ‘They’d risk it.’”
Ned laughed as he said, “And you think I’d be willing to take the risk if you took on Gus?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, you didn’t; but you implied it. I’m not afraid of Gus Kiggins.”
“I wasn’t thinking about him.”
“What are you afraid of then?”
“Myself. Suppose I should fight him, and then suppose I did succeed in whipping him—and that’s something I’m not a bit sure of—what would I prove?”