ax_, or else fight him," said Delorme,
adding hopefully, "but of course you'll fight him."

Harberth arose and walked to the nearest seat.

"He hit me a 'coward's poke' when I wasn't looking," quoth he. "It's
well known he is a coward."

"You are a liar, Bully Harberth," observed Delorme. "He hit you fair,
and anyhow he's not afraid of _you_. If you don't fight him you become
Funky Harberth _vice_. Funky Warren--no longer Funky. So you'd better
fight. See?" The Harberth bubble was evidently pricked, for the
sentiment was applauded to the echo.

"I don't fight cowards," mumbled Harberth, holding his jaw--and, at
this meanness, Dam was moved to go up to Harberth and slap him right
hard upon his plump, inviting cheek, a good resounding blow that made
his hand tingle with pain and his heart with pleasure.

He still identified him somehow with the Snake, and had a glorious, if
passing, sensation of successful revolt and some revenge.

He felt as the lashed galley-slave must have felt when, during a
lower-deck mutiny, he broke from his oar and sprang at the throat of
the cruel overseer, the embodiment and source of the agony,
starvation, toil, brutality, and hopeless woe that had thrust him
below the level of the beasts (fortunate beasts) that perish.

"Now you've _got_ to fight him, of course," said Delorme, and fled to
spread the glad tidings far and wide.

"I--I--don't feel well now," mumbled Harberth. "I'll fight him when
I'm better," and shambled away, outraged, puzzled, disgusted. What was
the world coming to? The little brute! He had a punch like the kick of
a horse. The little cad--to _dare_! Well, he'd show him something if
he had the face to stand up to his betters and olders and biggers in
the ring....

News of the affair spread like wild-fire, and the incredible conduct
of the extraordinary Funky Warren--said to be no longer Funky--became
the topic of the hour.

At tea, Dam was solemnly asked if it were true that he had cast
Harberth from a lofty window and brought him to death's door, or that
of the hospital; whether he had strangled him with the result that he
had a permanent squint; if he had so kicked him as to break both his
thigh bones; if he had offered to fight him with one hand.

Even certain more or less grave and reverend seniors of the upper
school took a well-disguised interest in the matter and pretended that
the affair should be allowed to go on, as it would do Harberth a lot
of good i