So prompt had been Reade's action that, for a moment, Bellas looked
astounded. Then, with a roar, he leaped forward, swinging both arms and
closing in.

Tom Reade had had his best physical training on the football gridiron.
He dropped, instantly, as he leaped forward, making a low tackle and
rising with both arms wrapped around Bellas's knees. Tom took two swift
steps forward, then heaved his man, head first, out through the open
doorway.

Bellas landed about eight feet away. He was not hurt, beyond a jolting,
and leaped to his feet, shaking both fists.

"Not unless you really insist upon it," smiled Tom, shaking his head.
"It's too warm for exercise to-day."

"You tricky little whipper-snapper!" roared Bellas, making an angry
bound for the doorway.

Tom met his angry rush. Both went down, rolling over and over on the
ground. Bellas wound his powerful arms about the boy, and would have
crushed him. Though Tom hated to do it, there was no alternative but to
choke the powerful bully. Bellas soon let go, dazed and gasping. Ere
the big fellow came to his senses sufficiently to know what he was
about, Reade had hoisted Bellas to one shoulder.

Down by the checker's hut the crowd of curious workmen gasped as they
saw Tom Reade jogging along with this great load over one shoulder.
Reaching the line, Tom gave another heave. Bellas rolled on the ground.
He was conscious and could have gotten up, but he chose to lay where he