Something there was in the tormented boy’s eyes that alarmed his rich enemy, and the fellow gave ground, working himself toward the spot where Pud Snooks was standing, as though seeking the protection of the bully.
Harry, however, was too quick for him and, with a sudden turn cut off Elmer’s attempt, forcing the boy to face him.
“Or what?” he demanded a second time.
Finding escape impossible, the rich fellow glared into the white, tense face before him.
“Or he’ll have to settle with me!” Elmer finished, but his voice was so low that it carried none of its former bravado.
“You’re wrong there, Craven. He’ll be obliged to settle with me if he does apologize. I may not be as rich as you, nor my father as yours, but we’re just as honest!”
“That doesn’t seem to be what the judge thought!” repeated Elmer. “I——”
But the limit of insult that Harry could endure had been reached.
After the repetition of the remark about the opinion of the jurist who had denied Mr. Watson’s appeal, the boy had drawn back his right arm—and the next moment, his tormentor lay stretched on the ice!
“Coward! Why don’t you take a fellow of your size!” cried Pud, skating toward Harry.