As he came close, red-faced seemed to feel uneasy about this reckless boy, for the big fellow, holding his fists so that he could use them, swerved slightly to one side.
Fifty people were looking on, now, most of them amazed and fearing for young Prescott.
But Dick, running still lower, charged straight for his man.
The big fellow, with a bellow, aimed his fists.
Dick wasn't hit, however.

Instead, he grappled with the fellow, just below the thighs, then straightened up somewhat---all quick as a flash.
That big mountain of flesh swayed, then toppled.

Red-face went down, not with a crash, but more after the manner of a collapse.
As he fell, Greg darted in from the street and fell upon the big fellow's chest.

In another instant young Prescott was a-top of the fellow.
"Keep him down, boys!" yelled Coach Morton.
Just before the coach sprinted to the spot Dave Darrin, then Tom Reade, and then Tom Purcell, hurled themselves into the fray.
When the coach arrived he could not find a spot on red-face at which to take hold.
The policeman, limping a bit, came up as fast as he could.
"Will you young gentlemen help me to put these handcuffs on ?" asked the officer, dangling a pair of steel bracelets.
"Will we ?" ejaculated Dave.

"Whoop!" "Roll the fellow over!" called Dick Prescott.
With a gleeful shout the squad members rolled red-face over, dragging his powerful arms behind his back.