He was a big burly fellow with a mottled face, thick neck and small eyes that seldom had in them anything but a surly expression. He was the bully of the place, and was universally disliked. "Who asked you to butt in?" demanded Bart, nettled at the interruption. "This is a free country, ain't it?" replied Rabig, truculently. "Sure it is," said Bart. "That's the reason your father came here from Germany, wasn't it?" The shot went home, for Rabig, though born in this country, was of German descent and for the last two years had been vehement in his denunciation of the Allies and fervent in his praise of the Teutons. "Germany's all right," he retorted, "and don't you forget it!" "If Germany's all right, it's surprising how many Germans try to get away from it," remarked Frank dryly. "You don't notice many Americans going over to Germany." "That's just because Germany is crowded," defended Rabig. "But just the same it's a better country than America ever dared to be. And when she gets through this war she'll be twice as big as she was before and there'll be plenty of room for all her people." "Going to gobble up all Europe, is she?" asked Frank, sarcastically. "Then I suppose she'll come over and take in America, too, so as to make a good job of it," said Bart, with a grin of derision. "Why not?" responded Rabig, promptly. "Somebody has got to rule the world, and why not Germany?" Quite a group had gathered about them by this time, and there was a roar of laughter at this frank expression of the German spirit and the German purpose. Rabig grew red with fury. His little eyes glowered as he glared about him. "We'll hang the Kaiser on a sour apple tree!" chanted Reddy. Rabig aimed a blow at him which Reddy adroitly ducked, and Frank stepped between them. "Leave the boy alone, Rabig," he demanded, and Rabig's fury turned on Frank. "What have you got to say about it?" he snarled. "Do you want to fight?" CHAPTER II A REMORSELESS ENEMY There was a murmur of excited expectation and the crowd gathered closer. For a full minute Frank's eyes looked full into Rabig's. And in the silent duel Rabig's eyes were the first to waver. Then Frank spoke. "No," he said, quietly. "Brawling isn't in my line. I won't fight--not here or now." There was a sigh of disappointment from the onlookers who had been keyed up in delighted anticipation, and Rabig, though his eyes had fallen before the glint in Frank's, resumed his swaggering air. "Afraid to fight, eh?" he sneered. Before a reply could be made, Mr. Thomas, the junior member of the firm, came out from his private office and the gathering dispersed. "Why didn't you trim him, Frank?" asked Bart curiously, as they walked down the street together. "I wanted to see you wipe up the ground with him. You could have done it too. You've got as much muscle as he has and ten times the grit. I fairly ached to see you sail into him."