Bob Cook and the German Spy | Page 6

fat people was full of fun as a rule. This morning, however, his demeanor was far from happy.
"Why shouldn't I have a grouch?" he demanded angrily. "I've just been talking to that chump, Jim Scott. He seems to think that any one who disagrees with him must be wrong."
Bob nudged Hugh. "What was the argument?" he asked.
"The war," said Frank bitterly. "I said I thought Germany was all right, and he tried to lecture me about it. Hasn't a fellow a right to his own opinion?"
"Sure he has," exclaimed Bob. "Any one can think Germany is all right if he wants to, but no one who is an American can side with Germany against the United States at a time like this."
"Who says they can't?" demanded Frank flaring up.
"I say so," exclaimed Bob.
"Who are you to tell others what they can do?"
"I'm an American, anyway."
"Well, I'm a better American than you are," cried Frank hotly.
"And you stand up for Germany now?"
"I do, because Germany is right and America is wrong."
The three boys were standing in one corner of the school yard, removed from all the others so that the rapidly rising tones of their voices passed unheard. Their faces were now white and their breath came fast. Hugh had taken no part in the argument thus far, but he stood shoulder to shoulder with Bob, prepared for any emergency.
"And what's more," exclaimed Frank, "this country was forced into war by a lot of men who want to make money out of it."
"You're crazy," said Bob.
"No, I'm not crazy either. Some of those men live right in this town too. I guess you know who I mean all right."
"What do you mean?" demanded Bob in a tense voice. "Name somebody. I suppose the fact that Germany has murdered a lot of Americans has nothing to do with our going to war."
"Certainly not," said Frank. "It's the men who want to make money."
"Who says so?"
"I say so, and so does my father."
"Huh!" sniffled Bob. "Name one of the men."
"They may get fooled," said Frank darkly. "Something might happen to their factories and they'd lose money instead of making it."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Oh, you know all right."
"He hasn't named anybody yet," Hugh reminded his friend.
"That's right," exclaimed Bob. "Who are they, Frank?"
"Well," said Frank, "one of the men who thinks he is going to make a lot of money but who may get fooled is--"
"Go on," urged Bob, as Frank hesitated.
"Your father!" snapped Frank suddenly.
Quick as a flash Bob's right arm shot out and his clenched fist caught Frank squarely on the nose. Hugh started forward as if to help his friend, but Bob waved him aside. "This is my affair," he panted.
Whatever else he was, Frank was no coward. Blood was already trickling from his nose and the force of the blow he had received brought tears to his eyes. He recovered himself almost immediately, however, and with head down rushed at Bob. Bob was waiting for him and sent a crushing blow to his opponent's jaw. Again Frank staggered back, but a moment later advanced for more.
He was more wary this time, however, and several of Bob's blows missed their mark. The boys danced about, each sparring for an opening. They were of almost equal size and weight, though Frank was probably a better boxer. Bob, however, was furiously though quietly angry, and convinced that the right was on his side had an advantage to that extent. Meanwhile the rest of the boys, attracted by the noise of the combat were running from all directions to get a close view of the fight. They quickly formed a ring around the two combatants and urged their favorites on. Most of them cheered for Bob, he being popular with all, while Frank had not so many friends.
Bob lowered his guard for an instant, and Frank was quick to take advantage of the opportunity offered. He dealt Bob a staggering blow directly over the left eye; a ring on his finger broke the skin and blood flowed into Bob's eyes, while a swelling appeared almost immediately. He felt no pain, however, and with a yell of rage he rushed at his opponent. He had thrown caution to the winds and consequently Frank drove home two more good stiff punches to Bob's wet and bleeding face. Nothing daunted Bob clinched and swaying back and forth for a moment they presently fell to the ground. Over and over in the dust they rolled, each one trying desperately to get his arms free. The crowd cheered wildly and moved back to give more room to the fighters.
Presently the spectators saw that Bob was on top. He was in better physical condition than Frank and this fact was beginning to count. Frank was short of wind