A fight between two boys is not a very pleasant subject with which to deal. In this particular circumstance there were, however, mitigating conditions that would almost make it a pleasure to describe the battle. Hugh was standing up for the rights of the weak, and had only plunged into the scrimmage when he saw that Nick had treated Owen in a most cruel manner. Once he started in and he meant business. There could be no half-way measures in handling so crafty and unprincipled a customer as the town bully. He must be carried off his feet with the impetuosity of the attack; and while still bewildered thoroughly punished. As Hugh had well said he needed a lasting lesson. Perhaps after this Nick would think twice before attacking a weaker boy, who might have a friend capable and willing to take up cudgels in his behalf. Nick flourished those big fists of his, and commenced to dance tauntingly around as though meaning to enlist the admiration of his cronies, who had never yet seen him come out of a battle second-best, and therefore deemed him invincible. Hugh leaped at him with fury glowing in his eyes. Some powerful fever seemed to have utterly overwhelmed the boy. Thad and those others stared as though they could not believe their vision. Was this impetuous boy who struck down Nick's guard as though nothing could restrain his attack, the same Hugh Morgan who on numerous occasions had been known to arbitrate a dispute, and declare that it was not worth getting into a temper over? A miracle seemed to have happened. The sight of Nick's brutal treatment of Owen Dugdale must have transformed Hugh into a merciless avenger. In that supreme moment he had constituted himself the champion of all those lads in Scranton who, in times past, had suffered cruel wrongs at the hands of the sneering bully. There was a furious exchange of blows. Nick knew how to fight, but on this occasion something seemed to go wrong with his customary programme. Why, when he hit out his hardest, and expected to see his antagonist reeling back before the blow, to his consternation, it was cleverly warded off, and the next instant something crashed against his own face that made a myriad of luminous stars, never indexed in the galaxy of the heavens, flash before his eyes. Then Nick was seen to stagger, and fall down. That was perhaps the first time he had ever taken a dose of his own medicine. How often had he stood jeeringly over some wretched fellow whom he had sent to grass, counting him out with monotonous chant, in which the joy of brutal victory was prominent? "Get up and try it again!" said a stern voice. "That is only a taste of what is due you! I hope you have not had enough yet, you cowardly brute!"