“Mean to sass me, do you?” demanded Ralph Hardy, doubling up his fist and acting as if he meant to fight. Half a dozen other boys, evidently thinking there was going to be some “fun,” pressed forward closely upon his heels. By this time Rob and his companions were surrounded, so it looked as if they would have trouble before they could get away. “Punch him, Ralph; he’s nothing but a cooner!” called out the voice of the tow-headed youth from the rear. None of the men offered to stop the boys, but they watched the proceedings with evident pleasure. “I’m not meddling with you; let me go,” said Rob. “You ain’t answered dad’s question. You can’t go till you have answered that, you New York hoodlum.” Though the words and tone of the speaker nettled Rob, he did not like to begin a quarrel there, which he knew would likely work against him, whatever the immediate result, so he started to move away without paying further heed to the pugilistic young Hardy. At that moment some one threw a ball of mud which struck him upon the cheek, where the most of it stuck until he had wiped it away. At this loud laughter, in which the men joined, rang tauntingly on his ears. “Looks well!” cried out one of the spectators. “Let me see if I can’t fix the other cheek like it,” and a second mud-ball struck Rob in the face, the moist dirt filling one eye so that he could not see plainly with it. Abused nature could stand no more, and Little Hickory was aroused. As soon as he could make himself heard for the loud huzzas that followed this last insult, he said, in a tone that showed he was in earnest: “Stand aside, sir, and let me pass.” “Lay so much as a finger on me if you dare!” replied Ralph Hardy, without offering to let him pass. “I dare you to touch me!” “I don’t want any trouble with you,” replied Rob. “We came here peacefully, and it is you who are making the fuss.” “You lie!” exclaimed young Hardy, shaking his fist in Little Hickory’s face, “and daresn’t say you don’t!” “If it were you alone and myself alone I’d make you eat them words,” retorted Rob, his face now showing his righteous anger, while he continued to advance. “You’re a sneaking, low-lived, dirt-covered hoodlum of the alleys of New York, and you have no business----” Ralph Hardy had got so far, when, flourishing his fist in the face of Little Hickory, he hit him plump on the nose. It is doubtful if young Hardy had really intended to strike Rob, as it was his purpose to make the latter begin the fight if he could, and the blow was not a severe one. But, coupled with what had been said, it was more than undaunted Little Hickory could bear, and he caught the surprised bully by the waist with a strength which enabled him to lift the other clear from the ground. Just how it was done none of the spectators could say, but they saw ’Squire Hardy’s son descrying a circle in the air, and then he was carried upward until he fell sprawling in the midst of a big mud puddle half a rod away.