What that would be was not long a matter of uncertainty. In the midst of a noisy rabble of boys, many of whom were larger, and all older than himself, he was borne along to the foot of the high fence that shut in the yard which, as already described, was at the back of the school building. Perched on top of this fence, and leaning down with outstretched arms, were four of the largest lads, shouting at the top of their voices, "Bring him along; hoist him up, hoist him!" The unresisting Bert was brought underneath this quartette, and then his hands were lifted up until they could grasp them in their own. So soon as this was done, a pull all together on their part hoisted him up from the ground, three feet at least, and then his legs were seized, lest he should be tempted to kick. The next moment, as perfectly helpless, and looking not unlike a hawk nailed to a barn-door by way of warning to kindred robbers, Bert hung there, doing his best to keep a smile on his face, but in reality half frightened to death. The whole crowd then precipitated themselves upon him, and with tight-shut fists proceeded to pummel any part of his body they could reach. Their blows were dealt in good earnest, and not merely for fun, and they hurt just as much as one might expect. Poor Bert winced, and quivered, and squirmed, but not a cry escaped from his close-set lips. The one thought in his mind was, "Quit you like men," and so buoyed up by it was he, that had the blows been as hard again as they were, it is doubtful if his resolution to bear them in silence would have faltered.
He did not know how long he hung there. It seemed to him like hours. It probably was not longer than a minute. But, oh! the glad relief with which he heard one of the leaders call out:
"That's enough, fellows; let him down. He stood it like a brick."
The blows ceased at once; those holding his hands swung him a couple of times along the fence after the manner of a pendulum, and then dropped him to the ground, where he was surrounded by his late persecutors, who now, looking pleasant enough, proceeded to clap him on the back, and tell him very emphatically that he was "a plucky little chap"; "one of the right sort"; "true grit," and so forth.
Feeling sore and strained, from his neck to his heels, Bert would have been glad to slip away into some corner and have a good cry, just to relieve his suppressed emotions; but as he tried to separate himself from the throng about him, he heard the shout of "Hoist him! Hoist him!" again raised, and saw the leaders in this strange sport bear down upon Frank Bowser, who, still in the hands of his first captors had looked on at Bert's ordeal with rapidly rising anger.
The instant Frank heard the shout, he broke loose from those who held him, and springing up a flight of steps near by, stood facing his pursuers with an expression upon his countenance that looked ill for the first that should attempt to touch him. A little daunted by his unexpected action, the boys paused for a moment, and then swarmed about the steps. One of the largest rushed forward to seize Frank, but with a quick movement the latter dodged him, and then by a sudden charge sent him tumbling down the steps into the arms of the others. But the advantage was only momentary. In another minute he was surrounded and borne down the steps despite his resistance.
The struggle that ensued was really heroic—on Frank's part, at all events. Although so absurdly outnumbered, he fought desperately, not with blows, but with sheer strength of arm and leg, straining to the utmost every muscle in his sturdy frame. Indeed, so tremendous were his efforts, that for a time it seemed as if they would succeed in freeing him. But the might of numbers prevailed at length, and, after some minutes' further struggling, he was hoisted in due form, and pounded until the boys were fairly weary.
When they let him go, Frank adjusted his clothes, which had been much disordered in the conflict, took his cap from the hands of a little chap, by whom it had thoughtfully been picked up for him, and with furious flaming face went over to Bert, who had been a spectator of his friend's gallant struggle with mingled feelings of admiration for his courage and regret at his obstinacy.
"They beat me, but I made them sweat for it," said he. "I wasn't going to let them have their own way with me, even if you did."
"You might just as well have given in first as last," replied Bert.