that in most cases they would degenerate into a fight.

John rushed forward, and attempted to throw Frank by the strength
of his arms alone. Frank eluded his grasp, and, getting one of
his legs around John's, with a quick movement tripped him up. He
fell heavily upon his back.

"This is all foolish, John," said Frank, bending over his fallen
foe. "What are you fighting for? The privilege of savagely
whipping a poor little fellow less than half your age?"

"I care more about whipping you, a cursed sight!" said John,
taking advantage of Frank's withdrawing his pressure to spring to
his feet. "You first, and him afterward!"

Again he threw himself upon Frank; but again coolness and
practice prevailed against blind fury and untaught strength, and
again he lay prostrate.

By this time Pomp had freed himself from the string that fettered
his wrists, and danced in glee round John Haynes, in whose
discomfiture he felt great delight.

"You'd better pick up your pail and run home," said Frank. He was
generously desirous of saving John from further humiliation.
"Will you go away quietly if I will let you up, John?" he asked.

"No, d----you!" returned John, writhing, his face almost livid
with passion.