"Don't soil your hands on the fellow, Don," cried his father, sharply.

"I must, sir, after he has insulted me," cried Don, in a rage. "I must
kick him, anyway."

"Nonsense, Don! No brawling with people of this class," commanded his
father, sternly.

The elder Melville reached out to restrain his son, but that seemed
only to render the young man more furious. He rushed at Jack, aiming
a kick.

"Don't you dare try that!" warned young Benson, his eyes flashing.

But Don, despite both warnings, did swing his foot. Jack dodged the
impact, then darted in at the side, landing a blow on young Melville's
chest that sent him staggering back.

"Strike _me_, will you?" flashed Don, throwing himself on guard.

George Melville, aghast at Jack's presumption in attacking his son, now
stepped back, satisfied that Don must avenge the insult.

A dozen boys, talking over baseball nearly a block away, saw the start
of this encounter.

"Fight! fight!" they yelled, gleefully, and raced down the street.

The cries readied the private office in the boatyard. Suspecting,