t, forgot caution
and tried to rush in for a clinch. But this was the kind of attack
that Prescott was skilled in dodging.

Dick gave ground before the furious assault, but he did so purposely.
Back he went, step by step.

"Miller's got him!" cheered the liquor seller's friends.

At last Dick found what he wanted, the opportunity to drive in
again on the big fellow's wind. Miller gave vent to another grunt,
followed by a howl, as he felt a stinging fist land against his
other eye.

Now, Dick had his man blinded, ready for the finish. A high school
fist landed on the side of the big fellow's throat, sending him
to his knees. Dick took but half a step backward as he waited
for the big fellow to get to his feet. The instant that Miller
rose Dick darted in, landing his right fist with all his strength
on the tip of the man's chin.

This time the work was complete. Miller went down. Dick, smiling,
though breathing quickly, stood over his fallen opponent, counting
slowly to ten.

Then, in a moment, those who had favored the boy's side in the
fight realized just what had happened.

Loud cheers arose from the crowd. Tom Drake was one of the first
to dart in and seize young Prescott's right hand briefly before
another man wanted to shake it. Dick was fairly made to run a
gauntlet of handshaking.

Most of Miller's "friends" retreated in sulky bad humor. Three
of the liquor seller's followers, however, picked the big man
up, staggering under his weight, and bore him behind the door
that had closed on more than one man's career.

"What do you think of that, Mr. Drake?" demanded Tom Reade jubilantly.
"Do you put Dick Prescott in the milk-sop class?"

CHAPTER XXI

THE REVENGE TALK AT MILLER'S

"Let's get out of this place," whispered Dick in Dave's ear as
Darry helped him to staunch the flow of blood from his nose.

"There, the bleeding has stopped," muttered Dave. "Now, put on
your coat and button it up. Then the blood stains on your shirt
won't show."

Tom Drake had very little to say, but he kept close to Prescott.

"Shall we walk down the road a bit, Mr. Drake?" asked Dick, as
soon as he had his coat on.

"I'm in a hurry to get home," nodded the young workman. "I shall
know where I belong, after this. No more of Miller's for me!
For that matter," the young man added, with a hearty laugh, "I
don't believe Miller would ever let me in his place again. Of
course, in his own mind, he will