Hector's Inheritance, Or, the Boys of Smith Institute

“He wants to keep out of your way, I guess,” volunteered Bates.

As this suggestion was flattering to the pride of the “boss,” it was graciously received.

“Very likely,” he said; “but he’ll find that isn’t so easy. Boys, follow me, if you want to see some fun.”

Jim started with his loose stride for the field, where he expected to meet his adversary, or, rather, victim, for so he considered him, and the smaller boys followed him with alacrity. There was going to be a scrimmage, and they all wanted to see it.

Jim and his followers issued from the gate, and, crossing the street, scaled the bars that separated Carver’s field from the highway. Already they could see the two boys—Roscoe and Wilkins-slowly walking, and nearly arrived at the brook in the lower part of the field.

“He doesn’t seem much afraid,” remarked Talbot, one of the recent comers, incautiously.

Upon him immediately Jim frowned ominously.

“So you are taking sides with him, Talbot, are you?” he said, imperiously.

“No, Jim,” answered Talbot, hurriedly, for he now saw that he had been guilty of an imprudence.

“What made you say he wasn’t scared, then?”

“I only said he didn’t seem afraid,” answered Talbot, apologetically.

“Be careful what you say in future, young fellow!” said Jim, sternly; “that is, if you are a friend of mine. If you are going over to Roscoe, you can go, and I shall know how to treat you.”

“But I am not going over to him. I don’t like him,” said the cowardly boy.

“Very well; I accept your apology this time. In future be careful what you say.”

By this time Wilkins and Roscoe had reached the clump of big trees, and had seated themselves under their ample branches. Then, for the first time, glancing backward toward the school, they became aware of the advancing troop of boys. Wilkins saw them first.

“There’s Jim coming!” he exclaimed. “Now you are in a pickle. He means business.”

“I suppose,” said Hector, coolly, “he has decided to accept my invitation, and come to see me.”

“You’ll find he has,” said Wilkins, significantly.

“He seems to have considerable company,” remarked Hector, scanning the approaching party with tranquillity.

“They’re coming to see the fun!” said Wilkins.

“I suppose you mean the fight between Jim Smith and myself.”

“Well, not exactly. They’ve come to see you thrashed.”

Hector smiled.

“Suppose they should see Jim thrashed instead—what then?”

“They might be surprised: but I don’t think they will be,” answered Wilkins, dryly. He was, on the whole, well disposed toward Hector, and he certainly disliked Jim heartily, but he did not allow his judgment to be swayed by his preferences, and he could foresee but one issue to the impending conflict. There was one thing that puzzled him exceedingly, and that was Hector’s coolness on the brink of a severe thrashing, such as Jim was sure to give him for his daring defiance and disregard of his authority.

“You’re a queer boy, Hector,” he said. “You don’t seem in the least alarmed.”

“I am not in the least alarmed,” answered Hector. “Why should I be?”

“You don’t mind being thrashed, then?”

“I might mind; but I don’t mean to be thrashed if I can help it.”

“But you can’t help it, you know.”

“Well, that will soon be decided.”

There was no time for any further conversation, for Jim and his followers were close at hand.

Jim opened the campaign by calling Hector to account.

“Look here, you new boy,” he said, “didn’t Bates tell you that I wanted to see you?”

“Yes,” answered Hector, looking up, indifferently.

“Well, why didn’t you come to me at once, hey?”

“Because I didn’t choose to. I sent word if you wished to see me, to come where I was.”

“What do you mean by such impudence, hey?”

“I mean this, Jim Smith, that you have no authority over me and never will have. I have not been here long, but I have been here long enough to find out that you are a cowardly bully and ruffian. How all these boys can give in to you, I can’t understand.”

Jim Smith almost foamed at the mouth with rage.

“You’ll pay for this,” he howled, pulling off his coat, in furious haste.

CHAPTER XIII. WHO SHALL BE VICTOR?

Hector was not slow to accept the challenge conveyed by his antagonist’s action. He, too, sprang to his feet, flung off his coat, and stood facing the bully.

Hector was three inches shorter, and more than as many years younger, than Jim. But his figure was well proportioned and strongly put together, as the boys could see. On the other hand; Jim Smith was loosely put together, and, though tall, he was not well proportioned. His arms were long and his movements were clumsy. His frame, however, was large, and he had considerable strength, but it had never been disciplined. He had never learned to box, and was ignorant of the first rudiments of the art of self-defense. But he was larger and stronger than any of his school-fellows, and he had thus far had no difficulty in overcoming opposition to his despotic rule.

The boys regarded the two combatants with intense interest. They could see that Hector was not alarmed, and meant to defend himself. So there was likely to be a contest, although they could not but anticipate an easy victory for the hitherto champion of the school.

Hector did not propose to make the attack. He walked forward to a favorable place and took his stand. The position he assumed would have assured the casual observer that he knew something of the art in which his larger antagonist was deficient.

“So you are ready to fight, are you?” said Jim.

“You can see for yourself.”

Jim rushed forward, intending to bear down all opposition. He was whirling his long arms awkwardly, and it was clear to see that he intended to seize Hector about the body and fling him to the earth. Had he managed to secure the grip he desired, opposition would have been vain, and he would have compassed his design. But Hector was far too wary to allow anything of this kind. He evaded Jim’s grasp by jumping backward, then dashing forward while his opponent was somewhat unsteady from the failure of his attempt, he dealt him a powerful blow in the face.

Jim Smith was unprepared for such prompt action. He reeled, and came near falling. It may safely be said, also, that his astonishment was as great as his indignation, and that was unbounded.