Dick the Bank Boy | Page 2

lay with its front buried in the water of the ditch,
and the sight was so disagreeable that Ferd seemed to lose what little

discretion he generally boasted.
"There, see what you've done, Dick Morrison!" he exclaimed, fiercely.
"Well, now, I like that," answered the other, hardly knowing whether to
laugh or show indignation; "you try to run me down, and when I step
out of the way to avoid an upset you accuse me of having had a hand in
the mess. Why did you jump off when by a twist of the handlebars you
could have saved the machine? Suppose you blame yourself, not me."
"But you saw that I had lost control, and if you'd only wanted you
could have stopped its plunge; but you'd rather see me get into a peck
of trouble. How d'ye suppose I'm ever going to lug that heavy thing
back up to the road now?" demanded Ferd, spitefully.
"Oh! I don't mind giving you a hand at that. I hate to see such a fine
machine lying in the mud like a mired cow," declared Dick, cheerfully.
Ferd looked at him dubiously, as though his spirit urged him to decline
the generous offer of assistance made by one he chose to regard as his
enemy; but the road was lonely, no one might come along for some
time to help him, and the motor-cycle was too heavy for him to drag
out of the hole unassisted.
So he swallowed his pride, and grudgingly allowed Dick to take hold
on one side while he dragged at the other, and in this fashion the
machine was speedily placed once more on dry land.
Of course it was pretty well soiled, and did not look very much like the
spick-and-span new wheel that a few days back had been the envy of
every boy in Riverview.
Dick, who could not bear to see anything abused, immediately snatched
up a handful of grass from the side of the road under the fence, and
commenced to wipe the worst of the muck away.
"Never mind bothering yourself about that; I guess I can attend to it
when I get home. It wouldn't have happened anyway if I hadn't met you

on the road," said Ferd, with a return of his bitterness.
Dick looked at him queerly, and then threw down the rough wiper he
had been using.
"I guess you're right. And as I didn't do anything to trouble you it looks
as if you just wanted to knock me into the ditch. It's a case of the biter
bitten, Ferd. When you see me helping you pull your old machine out
of the ditch again you'll know it."
Filled with indignation he turned and walked rapidly away, leaving the
other looking after him, still angry and yet perhaps somewhat ashamed
in the bargain.
This was not the first time these two lads found themselves facing one
another with fire in their eyes.
In school they seemed to be constantly ranged on opposite sides, and
the rivalry had extended into many of the natural pastimes indulged in
by growing boys, from baseball in the summer to football in the
autumn and skating and hockey in the winter.
The rivalry seemed unequal from one point of view, since Ferd was the
only son of Archibald Graylock, proprietor of the big department store
in the town, and known as a wealthy man; while Dick lived in an
humble cottage with his mother, a widow, and their circumstances had
been growing more and more straightened during the last year, so that
our hero was seriously contemplating giving up all hope of attending
school again in the fall, and seeking a position.
Dick's father had been a carpenter known for his many good qualities;
he had by frugality and prudence saved a sum which had been invested
as he thought judiciously, and would serve as a means of support to his
little family in case anything happened to him.
Seriously injured in an accident he had lingered for nearly a year and
then been taken, leaving the mother and son to face the world. For
several years things went along smoothly, for Mrs. Morrison was an

excellent housekeeper, and could make a dollar go a great ways without
appearing to be niggardly; but unexpected misfortune overtook them,
and the company in which most of the carpenter's savings had been
invested struck a reef, so that not only did the little income cease from
this source but there was danger that the principal might also be lost.
This was the serious condition of affairs in Dick's home at the time he
met his bitter rival on the road; he had been buried in thought, trying to
see what his duty might be, and as