"Now, I'll fix ye for that!" roared Tip, after backing off for an instant.
Just as he was about to charge again the big bully felt a strong grip on his collar, while a deep, firm voice warned him:
"Don't do anything of the sort, Branders, or I'll have to summon an officer to take you in."
Tip wheeled, to find himself looking into the grizzled face of Chief of Police Blake. Tip often bragged of his political "pull," but he knew he had none with this chief.
"I got a right to smash this fellow," blustered Tip. "He hit me."
"I'll wager you hit him first, though, or else gave young Overton good cause for hitting you," smiled the chief. "I know Overton, and he's the kind of boy his neighbors can vouch for. I don't know as much good of you. But I'll tell you, Tip, how you can best win my good opinion. Take a walk—a good, brisk walk—straight down the street. And start now!"
Something in the police chief's voice told Tip that it would be well to obey. He did so.
"Too many young fellows like him on the street," observed Chief Blake, with a quiet smile. "Good morning, boys."
At the next corner Hal and Noll turned.
"Oh, you're going to see Sergeant Wright?" asked Jud.