Jim McMasters returned one summer's day from a short camping excursion
in the Michigan woods. He had been the only boy in a party of young men,
and during their spare hours, as the members of the fishing party were
lying around camp, they had instructed Jim in a few of the first
principles of the noble science of self-defense. This unselfish action
on the part of his elders was brought about by Jim's bitter complaints
of Billy's treatment of himself in a fair fight, and by his dire thirst
for vengeance.
And so Jim McMasters came back to the city a dangerous opponent, and he
looked it. Even Billy, secure in the prestige of former victories, and
armed with hidden weapons--namely, the "thoughts" he so tenaciously
held--felt some misgivings when he saw Jim and noted his easy,
swaggering mien.
"I've got to lick him again," thought Billy, "and I've got to be good
and ready for him this time. I must get a set of thoughts well learned
and hold 'em, or I'll be lammed out of my life."
The youngsters met one day, each with his following of admirers, in a
vacant lot not far from the Lakeside House.
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