"You, too, Jack?" demanded Barry of the squinting fellow.
"Yes," muttered the latter.
"All right. Then I announce that as Bill wants to fight, he shall be accommodated. Jack is a good match for him. Isn't that so, boys?"
There was a storm of giggling. The two bullies looked at each other and grinned. The idea of them fighting each other was preposterous—or, so it seemed.
"And for fear," said the captain, his eyes twinkling, "that they won't play fair, if they are matched in a regular fight, we'll make it a 'poguey fight' to-morrow morning at nine—in the gym. Now, you two fellows run to your rooms—and show up at nine in the gym, or I'll come after you."
He drove the bullies out of the room before him, and then went himself. There was a subdued whispering and giggling all over the dormitory.
"What's a 'poguey fight'?" demanded Bobby, of Pee Wee, in some alarm.
The fat boy was rocking himself to and fro on the bed in huge delight, and could scarcely answer for laughing.
"You wait and see," he finally chuckled, "It's more fun than the Kilkenny cats!"
CHAPTER XIII