ridge had torn from his grasp with considerable force.
"Look out, Phil," spoke Sid, in a low voice, but Langridge heard him.
"You keep out of this!" he snapped. "I'll settle with Clinton first, and then if you or Parsons want anything, you know where you can get it."
"Yes, and so do you!" declared Tom, stung by the bully's words. More than once had the plucky end proved his words, too.
"Oh, Tom!" breathed Madge, and she laid a gentle hand on his coat sleeve. "Don't—don't let them—fight!"
Tom slowly turned his gaze from the flushed and angry face of Langridge to that of the beautiful girl at his side. She was pale, but smiled bravely. It was a tense moment. Phil and the bully still stood facing each other, neither willing to give way. A little crowd, attracted by the impending clash, was approaching.
Tom caught Sid's eye, and the latter, with a quick motion, indicated that he and Tom must interfere to prevent an encounter, at least thus publicly.
"You—you insulted me," mumbled Langridge, his fists clenched, as he glared at Phil.
"Impossible," murmured Tom.
"I told you the truth, in answer to your ques-
