.

"I give in," he said. "I 'm licked."

The gang had become silent and depressed at its leader's defeat.

Joe stepped forward.

"I 'll trouble you for those kites," he said to the boy who was
holding them.

"Oh, I dunno," said another member of the gang, shoving in between
Joe and his property. His hair was also a vivid red. "You 've got
to lick me before you kin have 'em."

"I don't see that," Joe said bluntly. "I 've fought and I 've won,
and there 's nothing more to it."

"Oh, yes, there is," said the other. "I 'm 'Sorrel-top' Simpson.
Brick 's my brother. See?"

And so, in this fashion, Joe learned another custom of the Pit People
of which he had been ignorant.

"All right," he said, his fighting blood more fully aroused than ever
by the unjustness of the proceeding. "Come on."

Sorrel-top Simpson, a year younger than his brother, proved to be a
most unfair fighter, and the good-natured fireman was compelled to
interfere several times before the second of the Simpson clan lay on
the ground and acknowledged defeat.

This time Joe reached for his kites without the slightest doubt that
he was to get them. But still another lad stepped in between him and
his property. The telltale hair, vividly red, sprouted likewise on
this lad's head, and Joe knew him at once for what he was, another
member of the Simpson clan. He was a younger edition of his brothers,
somewhat less heavily built, with a face covered with a vast quantity
of freckles, which showed plainly under the electric light.

"You don't git them there kites till you git me," he challenged in
a piping little voice. "I 'm 'Reddy' Simpson, an' you ain't licked
the fambly till you 've licked me."

The gang cheered admiringly, and Reddy stripped a tattered jacket
preparatory for the fray.

"Git ready," he said to Joe.

Joe's knuckles were torn, his nose was bleeding, his lip was cut and
swollen, while his shirt had been ripped down from throat to waist.
Further, he was tired, and breathing hard.

"How many more are there of you Simpsons?" he asked. "I 've got to
get home, and if your family 's much larger this thing is liable
to keep on all night."

"I 'm the last an' the best," Reddy replied. "You gits me an' you
gits the kites. Sure."

"All right," Joe sighed. "Come on."

While the youngest of the clan lacked the strength and skill of his
elders, he made up for it by a wildcat manner of fighting that taxed
Joe severely. Time and again it