“I’ll make you want to,” was the retort, and Joe was struck in the chest. He was not a lad to stand for that and he retaliated with such good effect that his opponent went down in a heap on the grass, and did not arise for some seconds. When he did stagger up, and saw Joe calmly waiting for him, the lad moved off.
“You can fight all right,” he mumbled. “I’ve had enough.”
Meanwhile Darrell had disposed of his lad, and Tom, who was engaged with a small lad who made a sneering remark, grabbed hold of the chap and shook him until the lad begged for mercy.
Sam and his opponent were still at it hot and heavy when there arose a cry:
“Cheese it—here come the cops!”
Riverside boasted of a small police force, and while it was not very formidable, most of the lads came from homes where a report of their arrest for fighting would meet with severe punishment. Their ardor suddenly cooled and, almost as soon as it had started, the impromptu battle was over. The victorious nine gathered up their belongings and moved off the diamond, jeering at their defeated rivals.
“It was their fault—they started the fights,” declared Tom Davis.
“Yes, I guess it was,” admitted Darrell. “Well come on, fellows. They beat us, and though I think it wasn’t exactly square on some of the decisions, we can take our medicine. We’ll do better next time.”
“Do you mean me?” demanded Sam half fiercely.