out," said Keith.]

"If you don't go to your seat instantly, I'll dash your brains out,"
said Keith, looking him full in the eye. He still grasped the chair, and
as he tightened his grip on it, the crestfallen bully sank down on the
bench and broke into a whimper about a grown man hitting a boy with
a chair.

Suddenly Keith, in the moment of victory, found himself attacked in the
rear. One of the smaller boys, who had gone out with the rest, hearing
the fight, had rushed back, and, just as Keith drove Jake Dennison to
his seat, sprang on him like a little wild-cat. Turning, Keith seized
and held him.

"What are you doing, Dave Dennison, confound you?" he demanded angrily.

"I'm one of 'em," blubbered the boy, trying to reach him with both fist
and foot. "I don't let nobody hit my brother."

Keith found that he had more trouble in quelling Dave, the smallest
member of the Dennison tribe, than in conquering the bigger brothers.

"Sit down and behave yourself," he said, shoving him into a seat and
holding him there. "I'm not going to hit him again if he
behaves himself."

Keith, having quieted Dave, looked to see that Jake was not much hurt.
He took out his handkerchief.

"Take that and wipe your face with it," he said quietly, and taking from