Hector's Inheritance, Or, the Boys of Smith Institute, Jr. Horatio Alger [best electronic book reader TXT] 📗
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
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This was too much for Jim.
He rose from the ground sullenly, looked about him with indignation which he could not control, and, shaking his fist, not at one boy in particular, but at the whole company, exclaimed: “You’ll be sorry for this, you fellows! You can leave me, and stand by the new boy if you want to, but you’ll be sorry for it. I’ll thrash you one by one, as I have often done before.”
“Try Roscoe first!” said one boy, jeeringly.
“I’ll try you first!” said Jim; and too angry to postpone his intention, he made a rush for the offender.
The latter, who knew he was no match for the angry bully, turned and fled. Jim prepared to follow him, when he was brought to by Hector placing himself in his path.
“Let that boy alone!” he said, sternly.
“What business is it of yours?” demanded Jim, doggedly; but he did not offer to renew the attack, however.
“It will be my business to put an end to your tyranny and bullying,” said Hector, undauntedly. “If you dare to touch one of these boys, you will have to meet me as well.”
Jim had had enough of encountering Hector. He did not care to make a humiliating spectacle of himself any more before his old flatterers. But his resources were not at an end.
“You think yourself mighty smart!” he said, with what was intended to be withering sarcasm. “You haven’t got through with me yet.”
He did not, however, offer to pursue the boy who had been the first to break away from his allegiance. He put on his coat, and turned to walk toward the school, saying, “You’ll hear from me again, and that pretty soon!”
None of his late followers offered to accompany him. He had come to the contest with a band of friends and supporters. He left it alone. Even Bates, his most devoted adherent, remained behind, and did not offer to accompany the discrowned and dethroned monarch.
“What’s Jim going to do?” asked Talbot.
“He’s going to tell old Sock, and get us all into trouble.”
“It’ll be a cowardly thing to do!” said Wilkins. “He’s been fairly beaten in battle, and he ought to submit to it.”
“He won’t if he can help it.”
“I say, boys, three cheers for the new boy!” exclaimed Wilkins.
They were given with a will, and the boys pressed forward to shake the hand of the boy whose prowess they admired.
“Thank you, boys!” said Hector, “but I’d rather be congratulated on something else. I would rather be a good scholar than a good fighter.”
But the boys were evidently of a different opinion, and elevated Hector straightway to the rank of a hero.
CHAPTER XIV. SOCRATES CALLS HECTOR TO ACCOUNT.
Jim Smith, as he walked back to the institute, nursing his wrath, felt very much like a dethroned king. He was very anxious to be revenged upon Hector, but the lesson he had received made him cautious. He must get him into trouble by some means. Should he complain to his uncle? It would involve the necessity of admitting his defeat, unless he could gloss over the story in some way.
This he decided to do.
On reaching the school he sought his dormitory, and carefully wiped away the blood from his face. Then he combed his hair and arranged his dress, and sought his uncle.
Mr. Smith was at his desk, looking over his accounts, and estimating the profits of the half year, when his nephew made his appearance.
“Uncle Socrates, I’d like to speak to you.”
“Very well, James. Proceed.”
“I want to complain of the new boy who came this morning.”
Socrates Smith looked up in genuine surprise. As a general thing, his nephew brought few complaints, for he took the responsibility of punishing boys he did not like himself.
“What! Roscoe?” inquired the principal.
“Yes.”
“Is he in any mischief?”
“Mischief? I should say so! Why, he’s a regular young Turk.”
“A young Turk? I don’t think I understand you, James.”
“I mean, he’s a young ruffian.”
“What has he been doing?” asked Socrates, in surprise.
“He pitched into me a short time ago,” said Jim, in some embarrassment.
“Pitched into you! You don’t mean to say that he attacked you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“But he’s a considerably smaller boy than you, James. I am surprised that he should have dared to attack you.”
“Yes, he is small, but he’s a regular fighter.”
“I suppose you gave him a lesson?”
“Ye-es, of course.”
“So that he won’t be very likely to renew the attack.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. He’s tough and wiry, and understands boxing. I found it hard work to thrash him.”
“But you did thrash him?” said Socrates, puzzled.
“Yes.”
“Then what do you want me to do?”
“I thought you might punish him for being quarrelsome.”
“It may be a good idea. I remember now that his uncle warned me that he would need restraining.”
“Just so, uncle,” said Jim, eagerly. “His uncle was right.”
“Well, I will give him a lecture. He will find that he cannot behave as he pleases at Smith Institute,” said Socrates, pompously. “He will find that I do not tolerate any defiance of authority. I will speak of it after vespers.”
“Thank you, uncle.”
“He’ll get a raking down!” thought Jim, with gratification. “I’ll make it hot for him here, he may be sure of that.”
Half an hour after supper was read a brief evening service called vespers, and then the boys’ study hours commenced. During this time they were expected to be preparing their lessons for the next day.
The service was
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