"The soldier, above all men, hates a fight, for the soldier knows he's the only one that's likely to get hurt." "Oho!" "Yes; and moreover," broke in Greg, "armies aren't organized, in the first place, for fighting, but for preserving peace." "Just as railroads are built to keep people from traveling," jeered Reade.
"If we don't look out the greatest excitement that we'll find today will be starting a fight among ourselves," warned Harry dryly.
"Rot!" scoffed Tom.

"The old chums of Dick & Co.

couldn't fight each other, any more that they can avoid joshing each other." Though none of the chums guessed it, excitement enough for two of them, possible, was brewing in another part of Gridley at that moment.
Bert Dodge was talking almost in whispers with a young fellow named Fessenden, who had discharged from the bank in which Bert's father was vice president.
"You do my trick---put it through for me, Fessenden---and I'll do my best with my father to get you back in the bank," Bert promised.
"Even if I fail in that, I'll pay you well, in addition to the money I've just given you." "Oh, it won't be a hard job to put through," nodded young Fessenden, understandingly.

"I can find two fellows who have nerve enough, and who will go into court and swear to anything I want them to." "That's the talk!" glowed young Dodge.

"You will testify that Dick Prescott was talking with you, and that he told innumerable lies to blacken my name that he libeled me!".