Dave Porter in the South Seas Part 16

Had the blow landed as intended, the country boy would undoubtedly have sustained a black eye. But Dave ducked slightly, and the bully's fist shot past his ear. Then Dave drew off and hit Plum a stinging blow on the chin.

"A fight! A fight!" was the rallying cry from all sides, and in a twinkling a crowd a.s.sembled to see the impromptu contest.

CHAPTER XI

A FIGHT AND ITS RESULT

"Dave, if you fight, and Doctor Clay hears of it, you'll get into trouble," whispered Roger. "You know what his rules are."

"I am not going to fight, but I'll defend myself," was the calm answer.

"Maybe you're afraid to fight," sneered Nat Poole, who stood close by.

Before the country youth could answer, Gus Plum sprang forward and aimed another blow at Dave's face. Dave ducked, but was not quite quick enough, and the fist of his enemy landed on his ear.

This aroused the boy from Crumville as never before. The look on the bully's face was such as to nerve him to do his best, and, casting prudence to the winds, he "sailed in" with a vigor that astonished all who beheld it. One fist landed on Plum's nose and the other on the bully's chin, and down he went in a heap against the boathouse.

"Have you had enough?" demanded Dave, his eyes fairly flashing.

"No!" roared the bully, and scrambling up, he rushed at Dave, and the pair clenched. Around and around the little dock they wrestled, first one getting a slight advantage and then the other.

"Break away!" cried some of the students. "Break away!"

"I'll break, if he'll break!" panted Dave. Plum said nothing, for he was doing his best to get the country boy's head in chancery, as it is termed; that is, under his arm, where he might pummel it to his satisfaction.

But Dave was on his guard, and was not to be easily caught. He knew a trick or two, and, watching his opportunity, led Plum to believe that he was getting the better of the contest. Then, with remarkable swiftness, he made a half-turn, ducked and came up, and sent the bully flying clean and clear over his shoulder. When this happened both were close to the edge of the dock, and, with a cry and a splash, Gus Plum went over into the river.

"Gracious! did you see that fling!"

"Threw him right over his head into the river!"

"The fellow who tackles Dave Porter has his hands full every time!"

So the comments ran on. In the meantime Dave stood quietly on the edge of the dock, watching for the bully, and trying to regain his breath.

Plum had disappeared close to the edge of the dock, and all the bystanders expected him to reappear almost immediately. But, to their surprise, he did not show himself.

"Where is he? Why doesn't he come up?"

"He must be playing a trick on Porter. Maybe he is under the dock."

"No, he can't get under the dock. It is all boarded up."

"He must have struck his head on something, or got a cramp, being so heated up."

Dave continued to wait, and as his enemy did not come to light, a cold chill ran over him. What if Plum was really hurt, or in trouble under water? He knew that the bully was not the best of swimmers.

"There he is!" came in a shout from one of the boys, and he pointed out into the stream, to where Gus Plum's body was floating along, face downward.

Dave gave one look and his heart seemed to leap into his throat. By the side of the dock was a rowboat, with the oars across the seats. He made a bound for it.

"Come," he said, motioning to Roger, and the senator's son followed him into the craft. They shoved off with vigor, and Dave took up the oars.

Then another boat put off, containing Poole and two other students.

A few strokes sufficed to bring the first rowboat up alongside of the form of the bully. Plum had turned partly over and was on the point of sinking again, when Roger reached out and caught him by the foot. Then Dave swung the rowboat around, and after a little trouble the two got the soaked one aboard.

Gus Plum was partly unconscious, and a bruise on his left temple showed where his head had struck some portion of the dock in falling. As they placed him across the seats of the rowboat, he gasped, spluttered, and attempted to sit up.

"Better keep still," said Dave, kindly. "We don't want the boat to go over."

"Where am I? Oh, I know now! You knocked me over."

"Don't talk, Plum; wait till we get back to sh.o.r.e," warned Roger.

A few strokes took the boat back to the dock, and Dave and Roger a.s.sisted the dripping youth to land. Gus Plum was so weak he had to sit down on a bench to recover.

"You played me a mean trick," he spluttered, at last. "A mean trick!"

"That's what he did," put in Nat Poole, who had also returned to the dock. "I guess he was afraid to fight fair."

"I suppose you wanted to drown me," went on the bully of Oak Hall.

"I didn't want to drown you, Plum--I didn't even want to push you overboard. I didn't think we were so close to the dock's edge."

"Humph! It's easy enough to talk!" Gus Plum gazed ruefully at his somewhat loud summer suit. "Look at my clothes. They are just about ruined!"

"Nonsense," came from Roger. "They need drying, cleaning, and pressing, that's all. You can get the job done down in Oakdale for a dollar and a half."

"And who is going to pay the bill?"

"Well, if you are too poor to do it, I'll do so," answered Roger.

This reply made the bully grow very red, and he shook his fist at the senator's son.

"None of your insinuations!" he roared. "I am not poor, and I want you to know it. My father may have lost some money, but he can still buy and sell your father. And as for such a poorhouse n.o.body as your intimate friend there, Porter----"

"For shame, Plum!" cried several.

"Oh, go ahead and toady to him, if you want to. I shan't stop you. But I'd rather pick my company."

"And so would I," added Nat Poole. "I once heard of a poorhouse boy who was the son of a thief. I'd not want to train with a fellow of that sort."

Dave listened to the words, and they seemed to burn into his very heart.

He came forward with a face as white as death itself.