CHAPTER XII
A NEW ENEMY
Tom Hicksley had caught sight of the three boys at the same moment, andfrom the spiteful look that came into his small eyes it was clear thathe recognized Bobby and Fred.
The boys looked at him coldly but did not speak, and Hicksley, on hispart, seemed at first as though he were going to pass them withoutsaying anything. But the events of the evening before still rankled inhim, and he suddenly stopped.
"So you're the butt-ins that mixed up in my affairs last night, areyou?" he asked, in a tone that he tried to make sarcastic.
Fred flared up at once.
"Yes, we did," he shot out; "and we'd do it again if we saw you up toyour mean tricks. You can't do anything of that kind while we're aroundand expect to get away with it."
"Hello! what's the fuss about?" asked Skeets, with sudden interest.
"You shut up!" commanded Hicksley. "This isn't any of your funeral. I'mtalking to these two boobs here."
"Don't tell me to shut up!" cried Skeets, who had a hair trigger tempervery much like Fred's own.
"I'll tell you anything I like," retorted Hicksley, who seemed to be amaster in the "gentle art of making enemies."
"I'll tell you what it was, Skeets," said Bobby. "I don't wonder thathe's so ashamed of it that he doesn't want it talked about. We saw himteasing an old soldier--a real old man, mind you--who was trying to geta little sleep. Then when the old man went up the aisle to get somewater, this fellow stuck out his foot and tried to trip him up. The manhad all he could do to keep from falling. That was too much for usfellows and we made him stop."
"He ought to have had his head knocked off," growled Skeets.
"It would take more than you fellows to knock my head off," returnedHicksley belligerently.
"You'd probably get along as well without it as with it," retorted Fred."We knocked your cap off anyway, and I notice that you changed your seatjust as we told you to."
"That was because the conductor came along," replied Hicksley. "And it'sa mighty good thing for you that he did. If he hadn't I'd have knockedyou into the middle of next week."
"You couldn't knock me into to-morrow, let alone the middle of nextweek," returned Fred, who was now thoroughly aroused.
"Come, come, Fred," said Bobby soothingly. "There's no use in gettinginto a temper about this fellow. He isn't worth it."
"I'll show you whether I'm worth it or not," cried Hicksley, in a rage."Don't you think for a minute that you've heard the last of this. Therewere four of you fellows last night, and there are three of you now. ButI'll catch each one of you alone some time, and I'll tan each one of youwithin an inch of your life."
"You'd better try it," answered Fred. "You'd be afraid to tackle a liveone. All you're good for is to torment a helpless old man. You're a nicefellow, you are."
The quarrel, although it was none of the boys' seeking, was growing sohot that it was perhaps just as well that Mr. Carrier, one of theteachers, should come walking briskly along just at that moment. He sawfrom their flushed faces that something unpleasant was in the wind, butthought it just as well to ignore it rather than give it importance bytaking notice of it.
"Good morning, boys," he called cordially. "It's just about time formeeting in the main hall. I'm going over there now, and you'd bettercome along with me."
This put an end to the threatening trouble for the time, and the boysfollowed along in his wake, Hicksley some distance behind the otherthree and muttering threats under his breath.
"Isn't he a pippin?" said Bobby, in a low voice, so that Mr. Carriercould not hear.
"Looks to me like something that the cat brought in," grumbled Fred,whose rumpled feathers took some time for smoothing.
"He's going around looking for trouble," observed Skeets; "and that kindis sure to find it before very long."
"No decent fellow will want to have anything to do with him," remarkedFred.
"Except perhaps Bill Bronson and Jack Jinks," amended Bobby. "He'll bejust nuts for them."
"I said _decent_ fellow," repeated Fred.
They soon reached the main assembly room into which the boys werestreaming from all directions.
Dr. Raymond and the rest of the teaching staff were seated on a platformin the front of the room. When the gathering had subsided into silence,the principal rose and gave the boys a little informal talk about theduties of the coming term and the spirit in which he hoped they would goabout their work. He dwelt especially on the incentives offered them tobecome members of the "Sword and Star," the main society of the school,and as he mentioned the name of the society, the boys who were membersjumped to their feet and gave the society yell:
"One, two, three--_boom!_ Boom Z-z-z-ah! Rockledge! Rockledge! Sword and Star! Who's on top? We sure are-- _Rock_-ledge!"
The hearty shout brought a flush of pleasure into the doctor's cheeksand he looked around upon his charges with a face beaming with pride. Heconcluded his talk with an urgent invitation to each of the boys tostrive for the Medal of Honor, the highest prize within the gift of theschool, and then dismissed them to their respective classes.
Here the proceedings were brief. The tasks for the following day wereassigned and then the boys were left to their own devices until thehours set aside that afternoon and evening for preparing their lessons.
"Our soft snap is nearly over," mourned Fred. "From now on it will besteady work until the end of the term."
"But think how much fun we'll have in between," comforted Bobby. "I'vegot a hunch that we're going to have the bulliest time at Rockledge thatwe've ever had yet."
"What makes you think that?" asked Fred pessimistically.
"I said it was a hunch, didn't I?" demanded Bobby. "You don't have toexplain a hunch. You just have it and that's all there is to it."
"I hate to think of buckling down to work again," said Fred. "We hadsuch a bully free time up in the woods that I wish it would lastforever."
"That's all the more reason you ought to be willing to work when thetime comes," remonstrated Bobby. "Think of the poor fellows that neverhave any outings and have to work hard all the time."
"I suppose you're right," conceded Fred. "I don't know just what it isthat makes me feel that way. It wasn't so when I got up this morning.I'll tell you just what I think it is," he said, as a sudden explanationof his mood suggested itself to him. "I'll bet it's that Tom Hicksley. Iwanted to get a crack at him this morning when Mr. Carrier came alongand stopped us. I'd have felt better if I'd lit out at him."
"Now, Fred, cut out that fighting talk," said Bobby impatiently."There's nothing in it. What's the use of getting into a row that willmake your folks feel bad when they hear of it and perhaps bring you upbefore the doctor?"
"I notice that you're ready enough to fight sometimes," grumbled Fred inself-defense. "You'd have pitched into Ap Plunkit if he'd hit you withthat whip yesterday morning, and you were all worked up on the train atHicksley."
"That's a very different thing from looking for trouble," said Bobbystoutly. "It's all right to take your own part when people try to bullyor strike you. But it's always best to keep out of a fight unless you'reforced into it. There wasn't really any reason to fight Tom Hicksleythis morning, and you know it."
"Perhaps if you had hair as red as mine you wouldn't find it so easy tokeep your temper," said Fred, falling back on an excuse he was fond ofusing.
"Maybe not," laughed Bobby, "but you can make a try at it anyhow."
"What's this I hear about fighting?" said Frank Durrock, as he came upbehind them.
Frank was larger and older than the two boys, and a prime favorite withthem. He held the post of captain of the school. This carried with it noofficial power, as that rested wholly with the teachers. But Frank wassupposed to ha
ve a general oversight, stop any disorder that went toofar and in general to act as a sort of big brother to the younger boys.
He was a fine athlete also, and had been captain of the football team onwhich Bobby and Fred had played the preceding fall and which had won theThanksgiving game from Belden. His skill in baseball was also marked,and he was expected to play first base on the nine in the spring.
"Oh, Fred was feeling a little sore over a row he had with Hicksley thismorning," explained Bobby.
"That new fellow?" asked Durrock. "I passed him a little while ago andhe was talking with Bronson and Jinks. They seemed to be quite chummytogether."
"What did I tell you?" cried Fred to Bobby. "I knew those fellows wouldget together as sure as shooting."
"They're three of a kind," assented Bobby.
"I don't know anything about what kind of fellow he is," remarked Frank,"but somebody was telling me that he was a good baseball player."
The boys did not think it was worth while to tell what they knew ofHicksley and so kept quiet.
"He's big and husky and ought to make a good slugger," continued Frank,"and we can't have too much batting strength on our nine. So if he canfield as well as bat, he may be able to get a place on the team."
The prospect was not at all pleasing to Bobby and Fred, but aboveeverything else they were loyal to the school, and if the newcomer wouldbe a help to the Rockledge nine they were perfectly willing to forgettheir own feeling.
"So you see, Fred," continued Frank, "you don't want to hold any grudgeyou may have against Hicksley. I don't know what your scrap was aboutand I don't want to know, but whatever it is, forget it."
"Sure I will," said Fred heartily.
"You know how it was on the football team," went on Frank. "There werefellows on that team that you didn't like--Jinks, for instance--but youoverlooked that feeling and played good football just the same. And wewant to do the same thing on the nine.
"I'm especially anxious to get up a strong nine this year," hecontinued, "because we're going to have some pretty nifty teams againstus. Belden has got two or three new fellows that they say arecrackerjacks and they'll give us all we want to do to beat 'em.
"Then, too, we're going to have a little different scheme this seasonthan we ever had before. While you hunters have been up in the woodsshooting bears"--here he grinned--"I've been hustling around with a fewothers and organized a new league."
"A new league!" exclaimed Bobby and Fred in the same breath.
"A new league!" repeated Skeets Brody and Sparrow Bangs, who had come upjust in time to hear the last words. "What do you mean, Frank? Tell usall about it."
They gathered about him, their eyes glistening.