The boy at the punching bag was a tall, big-boned youth, named Lew Flapp. He was a new comer at Putnam Hall, but though he had been there but three weeks he acted as if half of the place already belonged to him. At the start, he had made a few friends, principally on account of the money he had to spend, but these were gradually deserting him.
Dick was interested in the work on the punching bag, and he walked closer to note what Lew Flapp was doing. Clap! clap! clap! went Flapp's fists on the bag, which bounced back and forth with great rapidity.
"Well, how do you like that?" asked Lew Flapp, as he paused in his exercise and stared at Dick.
"It's all right," answered Dick briefly.
"I'll bet there ain't another cadet here can do as well," went on Lew Flapp boastfully.
"Oh, that's saying a good deal," said Dick. "Some of the boys can hit the bag pretty well."
"Humph!" Lew Flapp stared at the eldest Rover harder than ever. "Perhaps you think you can do it," he sneered.
"I didn't say that."
"But your words implied it."
"Dick Rover can do every bit as well," said a cadet who overheard the talk.
