"I'm usually particular about where I get my training," retorted Jack
Benson, insulted and stung past his power to endure.
Yet Captain Jack did not attempt to follow up that first blow. Throwing himself into the attitude of defense, he waited.
Don Melville did not keep him long waiting, but rushed at the shorter youth, intent on sending him to earth.
"Hit him like a gentleman, Don!" called his father.
Whatever way that might be, Don Melville struck out, his blood at the white heat of rage. With such force did he aim the blow that, when nimble Captain Jack failed to be in the way to stop it, Don pitched forward, falling to his knees.
"Hooray!" yelled some of the on looking boys, derisively.
Jack halted before his foe, smiling at him quietly.
"Know any more stunning tricks like that one?" Benson inquired.
"I'll show you!" panted Don, leaping up. As he did so, he caught sight of the smiling faces of Messrs. Farnum and Pollard, strolling up from the boatyard gateway.
As he faced the smiling submarine boy, young Melville was quick to realize that he must cool down if he did not want to become a laughing stock for the street crowd that was swiftly forming. Half a dozen workmen employed in the yard had climbed up onto the fence.