"So this is you, you little freshy!" growled Tip, halting suddenly, and close to Jud. "Now I'll give ye the thrashing I promised yesterday." His big fist shot out, making a grab for young Jeffers. But Hal Overton caught the wrist of that hand, and shoved it back. "That doesn't look exactly manly in you, Branders," remarked Hal quietly. "Oh, it doesn't, hey?" roared Tip. "What have you got to say about it?" "Nothing in particular," admitted Hal pleasantly. "Nothing, except that I'd rather see you tackle some one nearer your own size." "Would, hey?" roared Tip. "O. K!" With that he swung suddenly, and so unexpectedly that the blow caught Hal Overton unawares, sending him to the sidewalk. "I believe I'll take a small hand in this," murmured Noll Terry, starting to take off his coat. But Hal was up in a twinkling. "Leave this to me, please, Noll," he begged, and sailed in. Tip Branders was waiting, with an ugly grin on his face. He was far bigger than Hal, and stronger, too. Yet, for the first few moments, Tip had all he could do to ward off Hal's swift, clever blows. Then Tip swung around swiftly, taking the aggressive. It seemed like a bad mistake, for now Hal suddenly drove in a blow that landed on Brander's nose, drawing the blood. "Now, I'll fix ye for that!" roared Tip, after backing off for an instant. Just as he was about to charge again the big bully felt a strong grip on his collar, while a deep, firm voice warned him: "Don't do anything of the sort, Branders, or I'll have to summon an officer to take you in." Tip wheeled, to find himself looking into the grizzled face of Chief of Police Blake. Tip often bragged of his political "pull," but he knew he had none with this chief. "I got a right to smash this fellow," blustered Tip. "He hit me." "I'll wager you hit him first, though, or else gave young Overton good cause for hitting you," smiled the chief. "I know Overton, and he's the kind of boy his neighbors can vouch for. I don't know as much good of you. But I'll tell you, Tip, how you can best win my good opinion. Take a walk--a good, brisk walk--straight down the street. And start now!" Something in the police chief's voice told Tip that it would be well to obey. He did so. "Too many young fellows like him on the street," observed Chief Blake, with a quiet smile. "Good morning, boys." At the next corner Hal and Noll turned. "Oh, you're going to see Sergeant Wright?" asked Jud. "Yes," nodded Hal. "Our last visit to him." "Then you won't want us along," said Jud sensibly. "But say, we wish you barrels of luck--honest--in the new life you're going into." "Thank you," laughed Hal good-humoredly, holding out his hand. "Send me a brass button soon, one that you've worn on your uniform blouse, will you?" begged Jud. "Yes," agreed Hal, "if there's nothing in the regulations against it." "And you, Noll? Will you do as much for me?" begged Tom. "Surely, on the same conditions," promised Noll Terry.