VICTORY AND DEFEAT.
As may be easily imagined, Dr. Johnston's severe punishment of Rod Graham for having taken upon himself the part of an informer did not tend to make that young gentleman any more pleasant in his bearing toward Bert. By some process of reasoning, intelligible only to himself, he held Bert accountable for the whipping he had received, and lost no opportunity of wreaking his vengeance upon him. Every now and then during that winter Bert had bitter proof of his enemy's unrelenting hate. It seemed as though there were no limit to Rod's ingenuity in devising ways of annoying him, and many a hot tear did he succeed in wringing from him.
As spring drew near, this persecution grew more and more intolerable, and, without Bert himself being fully conscious of it, a crisis was inevitable. This crisis came sooner, perhaps, than either Bert or Rod anticipated. One bright spring morning, as Bert, with satchel strapped upon his back, approached the school, feeling in high spirits, and looking the very picture of a sturdy schoolboy, Rod, who had been in hiding behind a porch, sprang out upon him suddenly, snatched the cap off his head, and, with a shout of, "Fetch it, doggy; go, fetch it," flung it into the middle of the street, that was now little better than a river of mud.
This proved to be the last straw upon the back of Bert's endurance, and it broke it. With a quickness that gave his tormentor no chance to dodge or defend himself, he doubled up his fist, shut his eyes tight, and, rushing at him, struck out with all his might. The blow could hardly have been more effective if Bert had been an expert in boxing, for his fist landed full on Rod's left eye, sending him staggering backward several paces, with his hands clapped over the injured optic. But he soon recovered himself, and, with clenched fists, was rushing upon Bert, to pummel him fiercely, when Teter Johnston, who had just come up, sprang in between, and, catching Rod's uplifted arm, cried out, sternly:
"Stop, now! none of that! This must be a fair fight, and you shan't begin until Lloyd is ready."
Then turning to Bert, while Rod, who had too much respect for Teter's prowess not to obey him, gave way with a malignant scowl, Teter said, encouragingly:
"You must fight him, Bert. It's the only way to settle him. You'll thrash him all right enough. I'll see you through."
Bert had a good many doubts about his thrashing "him all right enough," but he was still too angry to think calmly, and, moreover, he was not a little elated at the surprising success of his first blow, which, although struck at a venture, had gone so straight to the mark, and so he nodded his head in assent.
"Very well, then, it's a fight," said Teter to Rod. "In the yard at the noon recess. You bring your second, Graham; I'll look after Bert myself."