He was so quick—or Ap was so slow—that Fred seized the latter by the ankles before he could get down from his perch.
"Git away! I'll fix you!" shouted the farm boy.
He kicked out, lost his balance, and Fred let him go. Ap fell backward off the fence into the cornfield, and landed on his head and shoulders.
He set up a terrific howl, even before he scrambled to his feet. By his actions he did not seem to be so badly hurt. He searched around for a stone, found it, and threw it with all his force at Fred Martin. Fortunately he missed the town boy.
Immediately Fred grabbed up a stone himself and poised it to fling at his enemy. Bobby threw himself upon his chum and seized his raised arm.
"Now you stop that, Fred!" he commanded.
"Why shouldn't I hit him? He flung one at me," declared the angry boy.
"I know. But he didn't hit you. And you might hit him and do him harm. Suppose you put his eye out—or something? Come on home, Fred—don't be a chump."
"Aw—well," growled Fred, and threw the stone away.
"You know you are always getting into a muss," urged Bobby, hurrying his chum along the road toward town. "What'll you do when you go to Rockledge—"