“I’m making it my business,” replied Clint hotly.  “You keep out of it, Durkin.  I’ll look after this fellow.  If he wants a scrap he can have it.”  Clint peeled off his coat and tossed it aside.

But Penny calmly and good-naturedly thrust him away.  “It’s my row, Thayer,” he said.  “Thanks, just the same.”  He took off his coat and vest, exposing a pair of purple cotton suspenders.  “Throw those down somewhere, will you?  Look out for the watch in the vest.”

“Don’t be a fool, Durkin,” begged Clint.  “You can see it’s a put-up job!  Let me attend to it, won’t you?”

Penny shook his head.  “No, I’ve got to do it,” he answered.  He turned to Dreer.  “Will you promise to keep mum about this?” he asked.  “If you don’t promise, I won’t fight.”

“It’s nothing to me,” muttered Dreer, maintaining a safe position.

“All right.  Remember that.  If I ever find you’ve spoken of it I’ll half kill you, Dreer!”

“I guess I’d have something to say about that,” said Dreer, blustering weakly.  Beaufort cut in impatiently.

“Aw, stow the gab!” he said.  He tossed his coat aside and skimmed his cap after it.  “Come on, you runt, and take your medicine!”

For answer Penny sprang forward and landed a blow on Beaufort’s shoulder that almost upset him because of its unexpectedness.  Beaufort grunted angrily and swung back.  But Penny was quick on his feet and handy with his arms and the blow was blocked, and Beaufort’s jab with his left fell short.  There was little space between the trees and the ledge, and what there was was uneven and covered with leaves which made the footing uncertain.  It was long-distance sparring for a minute, during which time the two boys, watching each other intently, stepped back and forth across the little clearing, feinting and backing.

Beaufort looked to be fully eighteen and was heavily built, with wide shoulders and hips and a deep chest.  Clint, studying him, felt that one of his blows from the shoulder, if it landed, would be more than enough for poor Penny.  Penny was of the same apparent age, but he was thin and fragile looking beside the other.  And yet he was certainly quicker of movement and had an advantage in reach, and there was a certain careful precision about Penny’s movements that encouraged Clint.  Dreer had moved well away from the scene and was looking on with eager, excited face, a cruel smile twisting his thin lips.

Suddenly Beaufort lunged forward with his right and then shot his second under Penny’s guard.  The blow sent the latter staggering against a tree.  Fortunately, though, it had landed on his ribs, and after the first instant of breathlessness, during which he managed to side-step further punishment, he showed no damage.  Again Beaufort feinted and swung, but this time Penny sprang back out of the way.  Then, before the other could recover, he went into him, left, right and left again, and Beaufort