lmasters."

"On the contrary," retorted Old Dut, as coolly as before, "this is just
the proper place for me, for I've appointed myself to teach you a
lesson, my man. Throw off your overcoat, I don't want to take you
unfairly."

As Old Dut spoke he "shucked" his own coat, tossing it to the curb.

"Wait, Mr. Jones, and we'll get a policeman," urged Dick.

"Wait and see how badly I'm going to need one," returned the
schoolmaster.

"This affair is none of your business," growled Mr. Fits.

"Yes, it is!" insisted the principal of Central Grammar. "You were going
to attack two of my boys. If you'll go along peaceably to the police
station with me, then I'll let you off from a thrashing. But don't try
to run away, for I warn you that I've kept up fairly well the sprinting
of my old college days."

"I won't go with you, and I won't run," uttered Mr. Fits defiantly.

"Then get off your coat, for I'm going to start in," Old Dut warned the
wretch.

Something in the schoolmaster's eye and voice told Fits that he would do
well to get himself in trim at once. Off came his hat and coat.

"Look out, you ferrule-tosser!" jeered Mr. Fits, and led off with one
fist after the other.

It had often been remarked, in undertones by Grammar School boys, that
Old Dut was fine at thrashing boys, but that it would be different if he
had a man of his own size to tackle.

Right now Dick Prescott and Dave Darrin were treated to a sight that
they never forgot. In point of size Old Dut was somewhat over-matched.
At the same time his opponent was a younger man. Yet it looked like a
battle of giants. For some moments Old Dut had all he could do to hold
his own. He took severe punishment, but gave back the same kind. Then,
all of a sudden, Fits showed signs of wanting to get away. But Mr. E.
Dutton Jones followed him up persistently, and at last a hard blow
stretched the thief on the ground.

"Don't try to get up," Old Dut warned the fellow, "until I announce that
I am ready for you."

With that the principal put on his coat once more, while Dave, with a
very respectful air, passed the principal's hat.

"Now, you may get up," nodded Old Dut. "Put on your hat and coat."

Mr. Fits obeyed, next remarking whiningly:

"As you got the best of it, now I suppose you are ready to let me go."

"I never let a thief go, if I can help it," Old Dut retorted, gripping
one of the fellow's wrists. "We'll walk along together, my friend, until
we reac