"Oh, it doesn't, hey?" roared Tip. "What have you got to say about it?"
"Nothing in particular," admitted Hal pleasantly. "Nothing, except that I'd rather see you tackle some one nearer your own size."
"Would, hey?" roared Tip. "O. K!"
With that he swung suddenly, and so unexpectedly that the blow caught Hal Overton unawares, sending him to the sidewalk.
"I believe I'll take a small hand in this," murmured Noll Terry, starting to take off his coat.
But Hal was up in a twinkling.
"Leave this to me, please, Noll," he begged, and sailed in.
Tip Branders was waiting, with an ugly grin on his face. He was far bigger than Hal, and stronger, too. Yet, for the first few moments, Tip had all he could do to ward off Hal's swift, clever blows.
Then Tip swung around swiftly, taking the aggressive.
It seemed like a bad mistake, for now Hal suddenly drove in a blow that landed on Brander's nose, drawing the blood.