seemed to him that he must give in
to the little whirlwind; but each time he pulled himself together
and went doggedly on. For he felt that he was fighting for principle,
as his forefathers had fought for principle; also, it seemed to him that
the honor of the Hill was at stake, and that he, as its representative,
could do nothing less than his very best.

So he held on and managed to endure his opponent's swift and continuous
rushes till that young and less experienced person at last wore himself
out with his own exertions, and from the ground confessed that, for the
first time in its history, the "Simpson fambly was beat."

CHAPTER IV

THE BITER BITTEN

But life in the Pit at best was a precarious affair, as the three
Hill-dwellers were quickly to learn. Before Joe could even possess
himself of his kites, his astonished eyes were greeted with the
spectacle of all his enemies, the fireman included, taking to their
heels in wild flight. As the little girls and urchins had melted away
before the Simpson gang, so was melting away the Simpson gang before
some new and correspondingly awe-inspiring group of predatory creatures.

Joe heard terrified cries of "Fish gang!" "Fish gang!" from those who
fled, and he would have fled himself from this new danger, only he was
breathless from his last encounter, and knew the impossibility of
escaping whatever threatened. Fred and Charley felt mighty longings
to run away from a danger great enough to frighten the redoubtable
Simpson gang and the valorous fireman, but they could not desert
their comrade.

Dark forms broke into the vacant lot, some surrounding the boys and
others dashing after the fugitives. That the laggards were overtaken
was evidenced by the cries of distress that went up, and when later
the pursuers returned, they brought with them the luckless and snarling
Brick, still clinging fast to the bundle of kites.

Joe looked curiously at this latest band of marauders. They were young
men of from seventeen and eighteen to twenty-three and -four years of
age, and bore the unmistakable stamp of the hoodlum class. There were
vicious faces among them--faces so vicious as to make Joe's flesh creep
as he looked at them. A couple grasped him tightly by the arms, and
Fred and Charley were similarly held captive.

"Look here, you," said one who spoke with the authority of leader,
"we 've got to inquire into this. Wot 's be'n goin' on here? Wot 're
you up to, Red-he