CHAPTER XI
FEUDAL FOOLERY
There seemed to be a dissatisfying influence, a feeling perhaps akin toenvy, or at least as offending class pride in the sentiment that aroseamong a certain clique concerning Bill Brown. The boy had become popularand it was thought by some unduly, or somewhat undeservedly so. Bill'sclassmates had not shown this tendency, or if so individually it was notmade evident. But to certain older fellows, that a mere freshman shouldso shine both in the opinion of teachers and the student body generally,seemed most inconsistent.
Siebold, the moving spirit of wholesome mischief among the upperclassmen, seemed to be the chief instigator of the tendency to belittleBill, aided by one Luigi Malatesta, a Sicilian. Siebold never hadforgiven Bill and Gus for the electrical trap sprung on his hazingparty. He had a certain following that shared most of his opinions andplans.
Malatesta was also a soph, with a very decided penchant for getting intotrouble and showing temper. It might have been expected that between theonly two natives of Italy in the school there would be at least somefraternal feeling, but these lads appeared instinctively to avoid eachother, and Tony's being a senior, made this easily possible on his part.Malatesta, seeing that Bill and Gus were both exceedingly friendly withTony, seemed to take especial pleasure in making contemptuous remarksconcerning all three, or in making offensive, insulting gestures thatthey could not help seeing. At first this was altogether puzzlingbecause the motive was not apparent. It became more evident, however,following an incident.
Bill and Tony were coming from the school library, to be followed laterby Gus, who remained to add some notes. The subject with which they wereall wrestling covered voltmeter tests and relative amperage, principallywith regard to battery construction. The boys were building their ownbatteries and must make no mistakes.
Bill was thumping along, talking, and Tony listening, as usual. Theycame through the double swinging doors of the dormitory on the way tothe shop and passed a small group of upper classmen in the hallway,Malatesta among them, holding forth. The two went down the basementstairway, a door closed behind them and they were alone. Tony stopped.
"I may ask you, _mio amico_, you did see that fellow, my countryman, upthere?"
Bill nodded, wondering.
"Well, it is so," continued Tony, "that he watches us--you because ofme, and me because of--to tell you it is something, shall I? Yes, itwill give me satisfy. That Malatesta--Luigi his name it is--why youthink he comes on this school? I will say he comes to spy to me. Perhapsyou think this is absurd quite, but not so. In Italy his people and mypeople are at fighting--no, you call it 'scrap,' eh? We make war, byfamily. My mother's people, one of the years long ago, kill one of thisfellow's people at the town _festa_ and they seek to kill all her peopleand my father's people take no part--know nothing. But when my fathermeet my mother and they are declared to marry, then the Malatesta fightwith him and his people. Is it not strange and very ridiculo?
"And now I am come to the family war because no more longer a littlechild and this Luigi he swear he look after me here in America, andalready I see the poniard lifted to strike at my breast, but I shalldodge and then maybe use my own, though hating the vendetta--feuds. Whyshall all this be? How have I made anger and strife with theseassassins? But to reason with them is to invite a more insult thandeath. You understand my telling?"
"Sure I do," said Bill. "It is what we call in this country a feud, butit is rotten. Why don't you go to the Doctor and----"
"Oh, no! My friend Bill, you cannot intend so. That would bepoltrone--coward! We fight without people stopping--to end, if must be."
"But a fellow like that--to come to school here just----"
"Oh, but he is smart, Luigi Malatesta, and to him learning is also good,though some of his people are low and many years ago they were of thebanditti. And some were of the boat builders and some were rich."
The boys had reached the shop and were still alone. Bill forgot hisloved problems in trying to comprehend this state of affairs.
"But I can't understand how such a thing could really be," he said. "Wehave the black hand, it is true, but----"
"Ah, no, this the black hand is never!" declared Tony. "This is offamilies--not to rob, though maybe they do rob in time and ask ofransoms. Such was done by some Malatesta of my mother's cousin and hewas lost to us, never returning."
"But, confound it, Tony, here he wouldn't dare----"
"Here he will dare more than in Italy, because there all who make familywars are suspect and many such quit and have become friends when timegoes, but other forgetta never. This Luigi he forgetta never, and maybeyou will see. We--my father thought we had left behind this fighting,but to this country also come Malatesta, for small is the world andlarge is hate."
Bill pondered this and turned to his work, but dropped his tools in amoment, explaining to Tony that there were other figures they must havefor calculating the strength of the battery and he would go back andtell Gus.
Bill reached the basement stairs, and in an alcove, alone, as thoughseeking to hide, was the fellow Luigi. He turned sharply, facing Billand glaring in evident resentment at the latter's broad, curious stare.Then the Sicilian spoke:
"Well, you see me. I it is, freshman. Stare at me some more as if I weresomething to step on and I will give you more reason to stare."
"What's the matter with you, you, you--" demanded Bill, stopping shortand much incensed.
"Ah! Wop? Guinea? Dago? Sphagett--so I am insulta--is it? And by ashort-leg!"
"I'd rather have short legs than short brain."
"I like you so well I smash you in the face!"
Suiting the action to the word Luigi advanced upon Bill, who turned andswung his crutch menacingly.
What then would have occurred it is impossible to surmise, for thecrippled boy was handy with the familiar implement that so readily couldbe used as a weapon, though the Italian was sturdier, heavier and mucholder--in fact, although small, he was almost a man.
But just at the moment there was a quick, descending footfall on thestair and the door opened. Gus, with wide eyes, stared at the near andunequal combatants.
"Hold on!" said the big fellow, glaring. The Italian hesitated, thoughbut for a moment. "You wouldn't really hit a fellow who is lame, wouldyou?"
"Ah, get away! Go off!" snarled Malatesta, attempting to thrust Gusaside as the strapping youth stepped in front of him. But the thrust wasfutile and then Luigi, growing furious, struck at Gus a powerful blow.The fellow was muscular and quick, but there was no thought behind theblow. And there was in contrast a smile on the face of the easy,athletic American.
The Italian's fist was clutched by a ready hand, much as a baseballwould have been caught, and then a very differently directed fist shotout and came in contact with Luigi's upper stomach--he got thatgenerally final solar plexus blow. Luigi gave a soft, aching grunt andsank to his knees, then to his elbows and rolled over on his side, in ahalf-minute more sitting up and gazing around, but still in pain. He wasagain alone.
Radio Boys Loyalty; Or, Bill Brown Listens In Page 11