But Dick's right fist landed on Ripley's face, leaving a big, red mark there, while Dave's ready foot tripped the bully, sending him to the floor. Ripley was on his feet again in a twinkling.
"Get back, Ripley!" ordered Dick, making a dash at him. "See here, you rowdy, I'm smaller than you are, but I'm willing to go outdoors with you and see if I can't teach you some manners."
"And I'll take pleasure in introducing myself to Bert Dodge at the same time," announced Darrin, his eyes flashing.
"I'll do my best with any other tough who'll oblige me," added Tom Reade.
"Bullies, toughs, rowdies, are we?" raged Fred Ripley, on his guard, though just prudent enough to keep out of reach of Dick's fists. There was a look in Prescott's eyes that the lawyer's self-willed son didn't wholly like.
"You fellows know just what you are," Dick went on bitterly. "There is no use in our calling you names. You can supply the names yourselves. And, if you're afraid to fight us, man to man, then you know well enough what else you are! Now, what has become of Greg Holmes and Dan Dalzell?"
"Oh, very likely they're still running as fast as they can go toward Gridley," jeered Fred.
"That's a lie, and no one knows it better than you!" flashed Dick. "Greg and Dan are not of the running kind."
"Oh, I'm a liar, also, am I?" choked Ripley.
"You know yourself better than any one else can," was Prescott's taunting answer.