matter of
compulsion, could stand his ground at any peril.

"How much have you got?"

"Thirty-five dollars."

"By jolly! And you mean to keep it all yourself?"

"I mean to give it to my mother."

"No, you won't! If you are going to be mean about it, I'll smash your
head!"

This was a favorite expression with Tom Spicer, who was a noted bully
among the boys of Riverdale. The young ruffian now placed himself in
front of Bobby, and shook his clinched fist in his face.

"Hand over."

"No, I won't. You have no claim to any part at the money; at least, I
think you have not. If you have a mind to leave it out to Squire Lee,
I will do what is right about it."

"Not I; hand over, or I'll smash your head!"

"Smash away," replied Bobby, placing himself on the defensive.

"Do you think you can lick me?" asked Tom, not a little embarrassed by
this exhibition of resolution on the part of his companion.

"I don't think any thing about it; but you don't bully me in that kind
of style."

"Won't I?"

"No."

But Tom did not immediately put his threat in execution, and Bobby
would not be the aggressor; so he stepped one side to pass his
assailant. Tom took this as an evidence of the other's desire to
escape, and struck him a heavy blow on the side of the head The next
instant the bully was floundering in the soft mud of a ditch; Bobby's
reply was more than Tom had bargained for, and while he was dragging
himself out of the ditch, our hero ran down to the river, and got his
fish pole and basket.

"You'll catch it for that!" growled Tom.

"I'm all ready, whenever it suits your convenience," replied Bobby.

"Just come out here and take it in fair fight," continued Tom, who
could not help bullying, even in the midst of his misfortune.

"No, I thank you; I don't want to fight with any fellow. I will not
fight if I can help it."

"What did you hit me for, then?"

"In self-defence."

"Just come out here, and try it fair?"

"No;" and Bobby hurried home, leaving the bully astonished, and
discomfited by the winding up of the morning's sport.

CHAPTER III.

IN WHICH THE LITTLE BLACK HOUSE IS BOUGHT BUT NOT PAID FOR.

Probably my young readers have by this time come to the conclusion that
Bobby Bright was a very clever fellow--one whose acquaintance they
would be happy to cultivate. Perhaps by this time they have become so
far interested in him as to desire to know who his parents were, what
they did,