that I cut and set up.
I've got you here because you wanted to fight."

"I don't want to fight," cried the youngest of the party. "You'd better
let us go."

"Yes, I'm going to as soon as you've fought young Marcus and beat him as
you meant to."

"We don't want to fight," half sobbed another. "We want to go home."

"I don't believe it," growled Serge. "You want to whip young Marcus,
and I'm going to see you do it; only old Lupe, our dog, and me's going
to see fair."

"No, you ain't!" came in chorus. "You've got to call that dog off and
let us go."

"Yes, when you've done," said the old soldier, with a grin. "Who's
going to be the first to begin? For it's going to be a fair fight, not
six all at once upon one. Now then, anyhow you like, only one at a
time. What, you won't speak? They're nice boys, Marcus, my lad, so
modest they don't like to step before one another; so you'll have to
choose for yourself. Just which you like, but I should go or that big
fellow first."

"I don't want to fight," whined the lad indicated, and he backed in
among his companions and placed himself as far behind them as he could.

"Oh, come! This is wasting time. There, go and fetch him out into the
middle, Marcus, my lad--or no, I'll do it."

CHAPTER THREE.

AN OLD-FASHIONED FIGHT.

Serge had been standing leaning over his crook, but now, taking it in
both hands and holding it before him, he stepped quickly towards the big
lad, who backed more and more away; but his effort to escape was in
vain, for, quick as thought, Serge brought down his crook as if to
strike the lad a violent blow, making him wince and bound aside, when,
before he knew what was happening, he was hooked by the leg like an
obstinate swine, and dragged, yelling and calling for help, out into the
middle of the stone shed.

"Got you," said Serge, coolly. "There, it's no use to kick. Here, you
other boys, close up and see fair."

Satisfied at once that they were outside the trouble, the other lads
began to grin, and, obeying the old soldier, they closed in together,
whispering to their companion who had just been hauled out, as they
believed, to bear the brunt of the expected punishment.

Their whispers were ill received by the selected victim, who, as soon as
his leg was released from the crook, made as if to back away again; but
his companions put a stop to this and began urging him on, trying to
incite him to begin, he reluctant and resisti