the ground and rubbed him in the dust, tore his clothes,
blacked his eyes and left him beaten and supinely, passively
wallowing.

He walked out on his tiptoes, like a terrier, head erect, his chest
out, fists still folded, tears in his eyes--tears of pride and relief.
He had fought a fight, he had received terrific blows and minded them
not. He had thrashed the Coffee-colored Angel: he could thrash or take
a thrashing from any one. He had his first thrill, the thrill of
conscious rage, comparable only to first love and first sorrow. He had
licked the Coffee-colored Angel--he was not a coward!

At this highly-auspicious moment the unsuspecting White Mountain
Canary perceived the despised object of his chase and, raising a
shout, triumphantly bore down upon him. With a rush he cleared the
intervening space and then, catching sight of the new Dink, stopped as
though he had been jerked in by a rope.

* * * * *

A few moments later the group on the Green House steps were lazily
working out a French translation, which Beekstein, the Secretary of
the Department of Education, was reading to them, when suddenly, in
the fields opposite, two figures appeared, zigzagging wildly.

"Here comes the Dink again," said Stuffy Brown. "They'll get him this
time."

"Who's after him?" said Tough McCarty. "He's a disgrace to the House."

"It's the White Mountain Canary," said Susie Satterly.

"Hello!" said Cheyenne.

"What?"

"I'll be darned--no--yes--dinged if it isn't the Dink chasing the
Canary!"

As they sprang up, amazed, Stover dove at the fleeing tormentor,
caught him, and the two went down in a heap, thrashing to and fro.

"Well, I'll be jig-swiggered!" said Cheyenne.

"I'll eat my pants!"

"The Dink!"

At this moment the awful wreck of the Coffee-colored Angel limped up.
A chorus broke out:

"The Coffee-colored Angel!"

"Shot to pieces!"

"Massacred!"

"Kicked by a horse!"

"What hit you?"

"Dink," said the Coffee-colored Angel, taking a tooth out of his
muddy mouth. "I caught him."

Presently they saw Stover arise and loose the battered White Mountain
Canary, who broke wildly for shelter.

"Well, anyhow," said the Coffee-colored Angel, "Dink's swallowed the
Canary."

"What's he up to now?" said Cheyenne.

They watched him approach the fence, deliberately take off his coat,
remove his collar and necktie, tighten his belt and methodically,
slowly roll up his sleeves.

"Her