Joe was the older and the taller of the two, but Walter was as heavy, and his frame was more compact. Joe’s bones had been put together loosely. If Walter could have looked down to the bottom of Joe’s dark, evil eyes, he would have read this determination there: “I’ll punish this boy smartly ’fore I git through with him to–day.” Walter however saw no such sinister spirit, and he only said, “Ready!” The two gripped, and quickly Joe came to the ground in a heap. Joe looked angry when he rose. “Let’s try that agin!” he said.
Woodbury noticed the anger in Joe’s face, and called out, “Fair play, fair!”
Joe made no answer, but renewed his effort, only to make a worse heap on the ground than before. When he rose the second time, he was furious with wrath and immediately struck at Walter. The “surf–boy” though, quietly pinioned his arms and laid him on the ground a third time. Rising again, his fury was his master, and he would have thrown himself on Walter, but Tom Walker and Woodbury Elliott planted themselves before Joe, and called out to him to stop.
“I challenge—him!” said the almost breathless Joe. “I want—to—try—it—in fightin’ fashion.”
“I shan’t fight,” said Walter. “But I can take care of myself if I am attacked.”
“You are afeared!”
“Quiet, Joe!” said Tom. “He has come off fust best, and he is not afraid; and he could use you all up, and I ’vise you to keep quiet. You ought to be ashamed of yourself that you can’t play fair. Here comes the keeper, too.”
Hearing this, Joe stumbled off into the station, looking like a disgraced animal, which he really was. He muttered vengeance however, as he stole away.
“Didn’t that boy carry himself well?” said Tom to Woodbury, as they strolled back of the station. “I’ve been a–watchin’ him and he has stood Joe’s mean fire like a hero. I think he means to do the right thing.”
“No doubt about that; but I guess he felt pretty well stirred up.”