The Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal Part 8

"See here," exclaimed the stranger, stepping forward a pace, "I don't know who you are except by name, but I'm not going to have you insult me.

Jared here is a chum of mine. I knew him in New York----"

"Sorry for you," flashed out Rob curtly.

"None of your lip," growled Max Ramsay sullenly; and yet, so electrical had the atmosphere become, and so capable of handling himself did the clean-living young scout look, that, uneven as the odds were, no further hostile move was made.

"Jared said he had a bone to pick with you," went on the strange youth.

"He told us he wanted to have it out with you Scouts. He invited us along. I'm not going to take any part in it, you can be a.s.sured of that.

There'll be fair play."

"Like stone throwing, for instance," retorted Rob contemptuously.

"I guess you're scared," sneered Jared.

"Who says so?"

"I do. You act so. You're afraid of me."

Jared was quite quick enough to see that Rob was unwilling to get into a fight. The leader of the Eagle Patrol abhorred, above all things, to be mixed up in a disgraceful set-to. But even Rob, who had unusual self-control, was fast beginning to lose patience.

"I don't know what harm I've ever done you, Jared," he said quietly, "but if you feel so, why I can't help it."

"I hate you, Rob Blake," exclaimed Jared through his clenched teeth, "and I'm going to polish you off once and for all,--do you hear me?"

"I'm not deaf. Let us pa.s.s, please," said Rob, still with that same calm, unruffled manner.

"Not till you've given me satisfaction."

Jared interpreted Rob's manner amiss. He was sure now that Rob would avoid a fistic discussion at all hazards. He determined to show his friends what a terrible person he was.

"Well, you heard what I said," repeated Jared, thrusting out his jaw and stepping closer to the unmoved Rob, "you've got to give me satisfaction--understand?"

"Do you want me to fight you?" asked Rob, without the flicker of an eye.

"Yes, I do," whipped out Jared boldly.

At the same instant, thinking to catch Rob off his guard, he aimed a vicious blow at the lad in front of him. Rob merely stepped to one side.

Jared almost lost his balance as his fist encountered thin air, and just saved himself from taking an ignominious tumble.

"So; you're a coward, eh?" cried Jared furiously.

"Possibly that's your opinion," spoke Rob calmly. "I don't like fighting, Jared, it's not gentlemanly and it's not a Scout principle; but if you _want fight, you're going to get it!_"

"Good for you!" cried Merritt, who had stood silent, well knowing Rob's ability to handle himself, for the Scouts had many friendly sparring bouts with the gloves. The n.o.ble art of self-defense was cultivated by all of them, but as a means of self-defense and for the joy of the sport only.

Rob whipped off his coat in a jiffy. Jared, with a slight quiver of his lower lip, did the same. Both boys stood ready to defend themselves, and, while the shouts of the crowd bearing Tubby aloft died away in the distance, the fight, into which Rob had been unwillingly dragged, began.

CHAPTER VIII.

SKILL VS. MUSCLE.

Jared was heavily built and strong, but his science was nothing to boast of. Jared had never had the application to build himself up physically.

Yet he was no mean opponent, as Rob saw. The leader of the Eagles was not as heavily muscled or as weighty as Jared, but he more than made up for it in his cat-like quickness and ability to spar.

The farmer's son saw this and realized that his best opportunity to put a quietus on his hated opponent was to land a heavy blow before Rob's perfect training had a chance to a.s.sert itself. He rushed in wildly, determined to battle his way through Rob's defense and beat him down by sheer weight and force.

But in this he had reckoned altogether without his host. Rob cleverly dodged Jared's savage swings, and, watching his opportunity, countered with amazing swiftness. None of the onlookers saw the blow, but they heard the sharp crack of Rob's knuckles on Jared's jaw. As for Jared, he beheld a swimming galaxy of brilliant constellations.

Rob saw that he was dazed for an instant and dropped his hands to his side.

"We'll stop right here if you like, Jared," he said.

"Not much you won't," shouted Jared, shaking his head, "I've only begun."

"Well, don't keep on the way you're going," laughed Merritt cheerfully.

Jared's friends began to look rather gloomy. In their hearts both Max Ramsay and Hodge Berry felt heartily glad that they hadn't tackled the Boy Scout.

Once more Jared rushed in on Rob. A second later his nose stopped a solid blow straight from the shoulder. It felt to Jared as if he had inadvertently collided with the rock of Gibraltar.

"Ouch!" he yelled in spite of himself.

Then, losing his head completely, he rushed at Rob and seized him in a wrestling grip. Rob, caught off his guard, lost his feet and the two toppled to the ground, going at it in rough-and-tumble fashion.

"Magnificent, but not war!" cried Merritt as he danced about.

Over and over they rolled, Jared managing in this style of battling to get in some heavy blows that caused Rob to gasp. But in a short time Rob had Jared fairly howling for mercy.

"Help!" he bawled out, "take him away, you fellows! He's not fighting fair."

"Don't be a cry baby," was all the consolation he got from his friends.

"Give it to him hard."

Thus counseled, Jared made one last effort to triumph over Rob. He suddenly disengaged himself and jumped to his feet. Rob was up as quick as the other and met Jared's last rush calmly. Jared, by this time, had lost his head utterly. He waved his arms wildly in a whirlwind of blows that Rob contented himself by ducking and dodging. He had no wish to punish Jared any more severely.

Suddenly the battle came to an abrupt termination, and that through no effort of Rob's. It had rained the week before, and back of the grandstand was a depression in which water had gathered in sufficient quant.i.ty to form a small pond.

His wild evolutions had brought Jared close to the edge of this miniature lake. The ground there was muddy and slippery, and, before he knew what had happened, Jared's feet slipped from under him. He staggered, clutching at the air to save himself; but although his friends rushed forward to help him, they were too late. With a mighty splash the luckless Jared toppled backward into the pond.

He was helped out, a truly pitiable object; but even his friends could not help laughing at him. Plastered with mud and streaming with water, his enraged countenance excited nothing but mirth.

"Come on," said Max Ramsay as soon as he could for laughing, "we'll get you to the buggy, Jared, and you can drive out home. Good thing you won't have to go through the village."

"Shake hands, Jared," exclaimed Rob impulsively, for the moment forgetting what they had overheard at the barn, in his sympathy for Jared's plight.

He extended his hand, but Jared dashed it furiously aside.