"Tell me about it," demanded the girl, for between Richard and herself there were few secrets, and a more devoted brother and sister would be hard to find in all New England. "Well, you see, Doyle and I never have been good friends in all the years we’ve been classmates at school. He goes with a gang I never cared for and he has always been inclined to bully. We’ve often had little tussles, but nothing that amounted to a great deal. You know he’s a dandy athlete and I couldn’t afford, half of the time, to have trouble with him. He is just cranky enough to have resigned from the school teams, and he’s really too valuable a fellow to lose, consequently I’ve so often swallowed my pride in order to humor him that he began to believe I was afraid of him, I guess. "But he has one mean trait I simply can’t endure, and that is the torturing of dumb animals. I often heard from the other fellows of his tricks in that line. To-day I witnessed one, and--well--I’ve a black eye to pay for my meddling." "That is not all the story, and you know it, Dick, so you may as well tell me now, for I shall get it sooner or later. What did he do that caused you to take such chances on this day of all days?" "I didn’t happen to think much about the day," grinned Dick, "but I do guess I’m a sight. Dad won’t care; yet, as I said, I do feel sorry on Mother’s account." "Richard Comstock, if you do not stop this evasion and tell me at once what occurred, fully and finally, I’ll refuse to help you another single bit. Now talk." While Ursula was speaking she unconsciously shook a piece of very raw, red beef at her brother in such an energetic manner that he feared it might land in any but the place for which it was intended unless he obeyed without further delay. A final rehearsal for the high school graduating exercises which was scheduled to take place in the evening had been held in the theatre, and after dismissal, as a number of the boys were going along Broad Street, a poor, emaciated cat ran frantically across the road towards them and climbed a small tree just in time to escape the lathering jaws of a closely pursuing bulldog. Percy Doyle, the red-haired owner of the dog, not satisfied with witnessing the poor feline barely escape his pet, ran quickly to the tree, grasped the cat by the neck and threw it to the eager brute. Almost instantly the powerful animal had shaken the cat to death. This cold-blooded act was more than the good-natured Dick could stand and with a warning cry of anger and indignation he called upon Doyle to defend himself. Then there followed a royal combat, for these two lads were strong for their age and their years of activity in all kinds of sports had made them no mean antagonists. In the end Doyle was beaten, but the victor had by no means escaped unscathed.