"Rip, never mind your nose. Help me close in
on this scamp and show him what we can do to a fellow that we
don't like."
In another moment Dick was the center of a cyclone, or so it felt
to him. Both boys were larger and stronger, even if not quite
as quick as he. They rained blows upon him.
"Don't try to holler," jeered Fred Ripley. "That won't do you
any good. We'll tell you when you've had enough. Take it from
us and never mind your own opinions."
Dick did not answer. Sore and winded, he fought with all the
spirit that was in him.
So busy were all three of the boys, that none of them noted the
approach of a light express wagon drawn by a single horse. The
driver hauled up, a few yards away, then advanced, driving whip
in hand.
Slash!
"O-o-o-h!" yelled Fred Ripley, as he felt the whip land on his
legs.
Slash! slash!
"Quit that, you fiend!" begged Bert Dodge, doubling up and screaming
with pain.
"I'll quit when I think you've had enough!" hissed Dave Darrin,
his face ablaze with anger, his eyes flashing fire.
Slash! slash! slash!
Dave plied the whip relentlessly until he had inflicted half a
dozen more blows on the legs of each High School boy.
"If you try to run away," warned Dave, "either of you, I'll run
after you and lay on ten times as much as I'm giving you.
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