A blow sounded, then a fall.
Captain Jack raced into a little, bush-lined hollow, just in time to see Millard leap up and take to his heels.
Hal Hastings lay on the ground, as though badly hurt.
"Oh, you would, would you?" raged Captain Jack Benson, making a swift spurt after Millard.
He caught the long-legged one, too, by the back of the fellow's coat collar.
Yank! Millard was pulled over backward. Down he went, Benson piling a-top of him.
"Down!" cried Skipper Jack, exultantly. He found, however, that Millard possessed strength enough to put up a stiff fight.
"Come on, Hal—if you can!" called Jack Benson, sharply.
"Can't—just yet," came, in muffled tones, from the usually prompt Hal
Hastings.
"Let go, you young hound!" ordered Millard, striking out savagely.