Mr. and Mrs. Blake had gone to South America on a protracted trip a few years before our present story opens, and had been fortunate in finding an excellent private school for Bobby near home, in the Rockledge School. His first year there and adventures are related in “Bobby Blake at Rockledge School.”
His special friend was Fred Martin, the son of a merchant of Clinton. Fred had received the nickname of “Ginger” because of his fiery red hair. It is also a fact that Fred had the hot temper that is popularly supposed to go with hair of that color. It did not take much to get him angry. Still he was generous and straight as a string, and he and Bobby got on famously together. Bobby often had his hands full in getting Fred out of the scrapes into which the red-headed boy’s quick temper led him, and sometimes he did not succeed. But the boys formed a perfect team, and where one was the other was quite sure not to be far away.
They made some good friends at the school and when vacation came they were invited to visit one of them, Perry Wise, the fat boy called “Pee Wee,” at the home of his parents on the coast. Here the boys had a great time fishing, boating, and swimming and found themselves with an exciting adventure on their hands in hunting for a missing boat. These and other adventures of the school chums are related in other volumes of the “Bobby Blake Series.”
And now to return to Bobby where he stood tense and undaunted, awaiting the onslaught of the bully whom he had discovered with his gang robbing Dr. Raymond’s orchard.
“So you got the number of the car, did you?” snarled the leader of the gang, Hen Lemming. “Well, now let me tell you, bo, that I’ve got your number too, and it’s number twenty-three. Do you get me? Twenty-three. That’s a mighty unlucky number, too, as you’ll find out, for I’m going to change the map of that face of yours for buttin’ in.”
As he spoke he made a rush at Bobby with his fist upraised.
Quick as a flash, Bobby grabbed for his legs, as he had often done when tackling an opponent on a football field. It was a perfect tackle, and the bully went down with a crash, so hard, indeed, that he lay sprawling on the ground, stunned for the moment.
In an instant Bobby was on his feet again. “One of you hold that fellow down!” he cried, assuming command of the situation. “Here, Pee Wee, you sit on him.”
Pee Wee instantly obeyed, and his ponderous weight settled on Lemming’s back, keeping him flat to the ground despite the desperate attempts of the reviving bully to throw him off.
“Now,” said Bobby, facing the rest of the intruders, who had stood for a moment paralyzed by the sudden downfall of their leader, “who’s the next one that wants to start something?”