“Slapped him! She knocked him as flat as a pancake.”
“Yes, an' you said you'd stand fer her,” said the other tall boy who was plainly a mountain lad. He was near bursting with rage.
“You bet I will,” said the boy with the cap heartily, “right now!” and he dropped his books to the ground.
“Hold on!” said Hale, jumping between them. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” he said to the mountain boy.
“I wasn't atter the gal,” he said indignantly. “I was comin' fer him.”
The boy with the cap tried to get away from Hale's grasp.
“No use, sir,” he said coolly. “You'd better let us settle it now. We'll have to do it some time. I know the breed. He'll fight all right and there's no use puttin' it off. It's got to come.”
“You bet it's got to come,” said the mountain lad. “You can't call my brother names.”
“Well, he IS a skate,” said the boy with the cap, with no heat at all in spite of his indignation, and Hale wondered at his aged calm.
“Every one of you little tads,” he went on coolly, waving his hand at the gathered group, “is a skate who teases this little girl. And you older boys are skates for letting the little ones do it, the whole pack of you—and I'm going to spank any little tadpole who does it hereafter, and I'm going to punch the head off any big one who allows it. It's got to stop NOW!” And as Hale dragged him off he added to the mountain boy, “and I'm going to begin with you whenever you say the word.” Hale was laughing now.