y quick, that you're ready to write all that we tell you to
write."

"That won't happen this year!" Dick flashed back recklessly.

"Oh, it won't, eh? Then so much the worse for you. I won't waste another
second's time in coaxing you. Do you want to change your mind before I
start?"

"No!" the Grammar School boy retorted doggedly.

CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

At heart young Prescott was frightened enough. Yet he was also aroused
to a fury of resistance.

With an ugly growl Driggs started in to shake the lad once more. Just at
this moment, however, Dick found a chance on which he had been doing
some frenzied calculating.

As he hung from Driggs's outstretched hand Dick's foot was just about on
a level with one of the fellow's knees. Dick drew his foot back like a
flash, delivering a lusty kick.

The blow glanced. Even at that Driggs's knee-cap suffered. With a groan
of pain Driggs let go and stood by to rub his injured knee.

"You young fiend!" hissed Ab. Dexter, grabbing Dick by the collar.

Driggs tried two or three limping steps.

"Anything broken there?" demanded Ab. anxiously.

"No; but I've got to have cold water to bandage it with, right away,"
replied Driggs. "Give me hold of the young pest's collar, and I'll hold
him all right until you get in again. But hustle with the water."

By this time Driggs had sunk into one of the chairs. Ab. dragged the boy
to him and the other ruffian took vindictive hold.

"I'll settle with you, you little varmint, after I get my knee attended
to," growled Driggs. "If you try any more tricks I'll let even my knee
go and choke the life out of you."

Dexter hurried from the room. Dick, who felt that seconds must be made
to count now, turned like a flash, sinking his teeth in the wrist of the
hand that gripped his collar.

"You young----" began Driggs, in a wild temper, starting to rise from
the chair as the pain forced him to let go of Dick's collar.

But Prescott, moving only two steps, caught up the other chair, bringing
it down on the head of the ugly rascal.

"Dexter! Dexter--quick!" roared Driggs. "The boy's getting away!"

It was dark now, in the lower hall, as Dick, darting down the stairs,
made out the form of Ab. Dexter as the latter hastened in through the
outer door.

"Out of the way, or I'll hurt you with Driggs's knife!" panted the
fleeing boy.

In that instant Abner Dexter proved Dick's suspicion that he was at
bottom a coward. Ab. drew u