Dick's head was down, but that did not prevent his seeing through his long hair.
"Get out of my way, you kid!" gasped the big fellow, halting in his amazement as he saw this youngster coming straight at him.
Greg was off the sidewalk, running a few feet out from the gutter
But Dick sailed straight in. As he came close, red-faced seemed to feel uneasy about this reckless boy, for the big fellow, holding his fists so that he could use them, swerved slightly to one side.
Fifty people were looking on, now, most of them amazed and fearing for young Prescott.
But Dick, running still lower, charged straight for his man.
The big fellow, with a bellow, aimed his fists.
Dick wasn't hit, however. Instead, he grappled with the fellow, just below the thighs, then straightened up somewhat—-all quick as a flash.
That big mountain of flesh swayed, then toppled. Red-face went down, not with a crash, but more after the manner of a collapse.
As he fell, Greg darted in from the street and fell upon the big fellow's chest. In another instant young Prescott was a-top of the fellow.
"Keep him down, boys!" yelled Coach Morton.