"Git back, boys," he ordered, sharply. "Ye ain't got no call ter stop a squar', stan' up wrestlin' match. I'll see fair play."
"But we—" began Bob.
"Don't bother about me."
Dave spoke as quietly as though there was no one present but himself and his friends.
The boys looked at the literary youth in astonishment. All knew that Dave Brandon had plenty of courage, but they had never seen his easy, indolent air fall away from him more completely. He stood erect and alert, his eye keenly measuring his heavily-built antagonist.
Dave was inches taller than Pete, but the wide shoulders of the lumberjack indicated unusual strength. Pete's red face expressed all the joy and satisfaction he felt at having at last forced one of the boys to wrestle with him.
"I'll show ye plum quick, big un!" he cried, springing to the attack.
Dave was ready. He nimbly dodged the flail-like arms, and warily circled away, eluding another clumsy effort to seize him by the waist.
