Mr. Keeler was a very strait-laced individual, and wont to raise his hands in horror at the mention of fighting, or anything, in fact, that partook of violence. He always gave it as his opinion that football was a brutal game, equal to the bull rights of the Spaniards, and could hardly be induced to even watch a baseball match, for fear one of the players be injured.
Nevertheless, Mr. Keeler was human, and from the door of his shop he had seen the little affair on the road, and recognized the combatants as Peake's new boy and the village bully.
He could hardly believe his eyes when he saw that Darry had come off victor, and that the idle men who gaped at the encounter were giving Jim the laugh as he crossly slouched away.
Perhaps after all there might be something in such a fight as this, where a much-needed lesson was taught a young scoundrel.
Mr. Keeler had his eyes opened for once; but at the same time he thought it his duty as a man of peace to speak to the new boy.
"What was the trouble about, my lad?" he asked, as Darry handed him a list of the articles Mrs. Peake wished him to bring back.
"There was no trouble on my side. I only wanted to be left alone, sir," replied our hero, smiling.
"Oh! I see, and Jim wouldn't have it? Like as not he told you to get off the earth—it would be just like his impudence."
"Not quite so bad as that, sir, but he did say I couldn't stay with Mrs. Peake, and must move on. I'm quite satisfied where I am, and I mean to stay—that is as long as she wants me to."
"Quite right. I suppose there may be times when a boy is compelled to stand up for his rights, although I've generally preached the other way. But if you had to fight I'm glad you succeeded in convincing Jim that you could hold your own."