CHAPTER XV.
THE MAN BEHIND THE MYSTERY.
With doubled up fists, firmly planted in a scientific attitude of defence, Jack awaited the onslaught.
“I’ll teach you a lesson!” bellowed his assailant.
Jack said nothing, but stood his ground firmly. However burly his opponent was, he had never been taught even the rudiments of what has been called the “noble art” of self-defense.
His tactics were those of a wild bull. He swung his arms wildly, and even in the darkness Jack could see the gleam of his clenched teeth. All this the boy rightly judged to be, like the yells which had been directed at him, part of a plan to frighten him.
But while Jack was alarmed, it is true, he was not so easily scared as all that. At school he had been one of the best fellows in the “gym” with the gloves. His muscles, what with right living and lots of exercise, were like so many bundles of steel cords under his healthy skin.
On the other hand, the road agent, or highwayman, for Jack felt that he could be nothing else, was big, but flabby. As again and again Jack met his onrushes with swift and skillful side steps and ducks, he generally managed, too, to leave some memento of his athletic skill on one portion or another of his opponent’s anatomy.
In the meantime, what of Tom?
Like Jack, he was no unskilled novice in the art which Jack was practicing with such good effect. Like his cousin, too, he had no lack of courage; but it must be confessed that as he heard Jack’s shout of warning and realized that they had been trapped for no good purpose, his heart gave a frightened bound.