But this was not to be, for Harry Moss was already at the doorway of the boathouse and now he retreated to a safe distance.
"If you hit Tom Rover, or Sam, I'll call Mr. Strong?" cried the little cadet.
"Don't you do it," said Tom. "I am not afraid of Flapp."
"But he's so big, Tom."
"I don't care for that."
Tom had scarcely spoken when Lew Flapp, watching his opportunity, leaped forward and planted a blow on his chin that sent him staggering back into Sam's arms.
"Now come on, if you dare!" he cried.
"All right!" came from Tom, as he recovered. And like a flash he flew at Lew Flapp, before Sam could do a thing to stop him. Blow after blow was taken and given by each of the cadets, and Tom was hit in the chest, on the shoulder, and in the left cheek. In return Flapp got one in the right eye that almost closed up that optic and then came a blow on the nose that made the blood spurt in all directions.
"Good for you, Tom!" cried Sam, dancing around, forgetful of what he had just said about his brother getting into trouble. "That's the time you did it. Now give him another!"
Again the two boys went at it and once more
