The lad, a small chap, did not seem to comprehend.
Dick put in a word.
"You can't stand near there until you're a second year," he told the lad. "It's a school rule, that's all."
"I say, Hamilton, I guess I can manage my own affairs," said Dutton, angrily. "You mind your own business; will you?"
"I guess I've got as much right to speak as you have," said Dick hotly. "I was only telling him what to do."
The freshman looked from one to the other. Quite a group had gathered by this time, attracted by Dutton's loud voice. The new lad moved a short distance away from the gun.
"Don't you know enough to mind when you're spoken to?" demanded Dutton, advancing toward him. "I'll teach you manners, you young cub! Why don't you salute when an officer speaks to you? Now get back," and, with that he gave the lad such a shove that he went over backward into a snow bank, made by shoveling the white crystals away from the gun.
"That's not right, Dutton!" exclaimed Dick.
"You mind your own affairs, or I'll do the same to you, Hamilton," retorted the bully.
"You'd better try it," said Dick quietly. "If you want to fight with me, you know what to do. Just lay a finger on me."
He took a step toward his enemy, and stood
