ward to take the arm of the girl who had spoken, but at the same instant some one caught him by the wrist and held him still.
Harry Slade, the star football player and this pear’s captain, happened to be in Hastings; he was, in fact, seeking these very girls. He had intended to pass on when he saw two men with them, but as soon as he recognized Hugh he paused and then impulsively strode forward.
“Here, Carver,” he said sharply. “What are pou doing?”
“None—none of you da-damn business,” Hugh replied angrily, trying to shake his wrist free. ‘Leggo of me or—or I ’ll—I ’ll—”
“You won’t do anything,” Slade interrupted. !‘You ’re going home with me.”
“Who in hell are you?” one of the girls asked viciously. “Mind your own damn business.”
“You mind yours, sister, or you ’ll get into a peck of trouble. This kid ’s going with me—and don’t forget that. Come on, Carver.”
Hugh was still vainly trying to twist his wrist free tnd was muttering, “Leggo, leggo o’ me.”
Slade jerked him across the sidewalk. Carl fol¬ lowed expostulating. “Get the hell out of here, Peters,” Slade said angrily, “or I ’ll knock your fool block off. You chase off with those rats if you want to, but you leave Carver with me if you know what’s good for you.” He shoved Carl away, and
