Regina warned Wilf as the back library window opened. "Look out, it's old Braithee!"
Mr. Braithwaite had been studying in the library, notwithstanding the fact that it was Sunday. Time and tide did
not count in the absentminded scholar's scheme of things. He looked over his glasses at the young people in the
playground. "I say, er er, what's going on out there, er, not fighting I, er, hope! Not nice, er, fighting."
Regina called out in a little-girl voice. "Oh, no sir, we're only playing a game!"
The librarian-cum-schoolmaster scratched his bushy head. "Oh, er, very good, very good. Hmm, not nice, er,
fighting!" He shut the window and went back to his studies.
Ben suddenly stood on Wilf's toe, did a neat twist, and, releasing his hand from the bully's grip, he stood
grinning into the bigger boy's red face. "Hear that? It's not nice to fight, y'know!"
The sound of Wilf's teeth grinding together was audible as he leaped forward, swinging a fierce punch at his
adversary's face. He struck air. Ben was out of his way, holding up both palms open wide, his voice soothing and
reasonable.
"Steady on, friend, I don't want to fight you."
The gang were shouting out now, wildly excited.
"Knock his block off, Wilf!"
"Make his nose bleed!"
"Go on, Wilf, belt the little squirt one!"
Wilf charged like an enraged bull, swinging wildly with both fists. But each time, Ben either ducked or dodged
nimbly aside.
From behind the gable wall, Alex almost sobbed with disappointment. "Ben won't stand and fight, he's scared!"
Amy began to feel the same way as her brother. She stood out in the open, fists clenched, willing Ben to land
Wilf a blow each time the bully went staggering by. However, Ben kept up the same tactics, weaving around his
attacker, still open-handed.
"I told you, Wilf, I don't want to fight you!"
Wilf, breathing heavily, gasped out. "That's 'cos you're a coward. Come on, fight, you yellowbelly!"
This time he changed his assault, looping out a savage right. As Ben dodged it, Wilf kicked out just as Regina
pushed Ben in the back, sending him onto the kick. It caught his shin. The kick did not injure Ben greatly; however,
he decided it was unwise to leave his back uncovered.
Amy, with Alex behind her, came running toward the fray, shouting out, "Foul, foul! Keep your feet to yourself,
Smithers!"
Not wanting them caught up in the fight, Ben backed off until he was up against the schoolhouse wall. Shoving
aside Amy and Alex, Regina laughed gleefully. "Get 'round him quick! Hahaha, you've got him cornered, Wilf!"
She was right. Ben found himself against the wall with the others standing around in a half-circle. Wilf was
right in front of him—Ben could not go left, right, or back. Leaping forward, Wilf aimed a swinging right at his face.
Ben ducked, and there was a meaty thud, followed by an agonized scream. Amy went white, she could not see what
had gone on.
Wilf Smithers came howling and screeching out of the melee, holding his right elbow in his left hand, his face
the color of a beetroot. As he stopped and did a dance of pain on the spot, his right hand flapped uselessly.
Mr. Braithwaite came hurrying into the yard, his dusty gown swirling about him as he called out to the dancing
boy. "Er, er, what, er, seems to be the trouble, er, Smithers?"
Wilf had lost the power of intelligent speech and continued to scream and dance. Ben came forward, unhurt,
calmly explaining. "We were playing a game, sir, and he punched the wall by accident. I think his hand is hurt. Are
you all right, Wilf?"
Mr. Braithwaite showered dandruff around as he scratched his wiry mop furiously. "Hand, er, right, er,
whats-ername . . . Woodworthy. Go and get somebody, er, immediately. Yes, right away, er, I should think!"
Regina went dashing out of the schoolyard, straight into Mr. and Mrs. Evans, who were out for a stroll.
Blodwen Evans strode purposefully toward the speechless dancing boy, with her husband Dai trailing behind.
She took charge of the situation, addressing Mr. Braithwaite. "Indeed to goodness, what's possessin' the lad?"
"Er, ah, er, hand I should, er, think, yes!"
She brushed Mr. Braithwaite aside, grabbed Wilf by his injured hand, and felt it. He gave out a last shriek and
fainted. Blodwen Evans pursed her lips as she made a quick diagnosis. "Look, you, the lad's hand is broken! Dai, Mr.
Braithwaite, you'll 'ave to help me carry him to the chemist. He's closed, but we'll rattle the door 'til he opens."
She seized the unconscious Wilf's feet, glaring at the librarian. "Don't lift him by the right hand, man, take his
shoulders!" Between them they struggled out of the schoolyard, carrying their limp burden.
Regina turned on Ben immediately. "You're responsible for that. Couldn't fight him fair and square. Coward!"
Amy pushed herself between Regina and Ben. "Don't be silly, Wilf did that to himself!"
Regina took a swinging slap at Amy's face, but Ben's arm blocked it. He seemed to touch Regina at a point
between ear and neck. Instantly she rose on tiptoe as he kept up the pressure with a slightly bent forefinger. Amy was
amazed—the girl was standing rock-still, with her chin tilted upward and an expression of silent anguish on her face.
Ben's voice was soft, but with a hint of steel in it. "Listen to me, Regina, I've got you by a nerve point—painful,
isn't it? I don't like hurting anybody, so save yourself some pain and say that we must not fight and I'll let you go."
The big girl's jaw was clenched so tight that all she could manage was something that sounded like "Gnn, ee
nust nok kite!" Ben released her and she dashed off sobbing, with the rest of the Grange Gang trailing behind sullenly.
Alex was lost in admiration. "Where did you learn to do that, Ben? You could've licked Wilf with one finger.
Show me how you did it, go on, Ben!"
The flaxen-haired boy thrust his hands into his pockets, ignoring his friend. "Oh no, pal, you'd be going about
paralyzing anyone who came near you. What's the use of fighting, kicking, and punching another person just to prove
your point? It only ends up with both of you getting hurt and solving nothing. Come on, I'm due back for dinner soon,
have to get cleaned up. Don't want to disappoint Miz Winn."
They parted at the corner of the lane and turned. The dark-haired girl watched Ben lope off toward Mrs. Winn's
house. Alex looked at his older sister, puzzled. "So Ben isn't a coward?"
Amy shook her head, slowly. "Far from it!"
"Then why wouldn't he fight Wilf? He could have beat him easily with those secret things he knows."
Ben had now gone out of sight around the bend in the lane.
Amy gave her brother a long look before she replied. "You know, there's a lot more to Ben than either of us
imagine. He has a sort of air about him—confidence, that's it. He acts as if he can do a great deal of things. Of course
he could have beaten Wilf. I think he didn't fight because he knew he could win, but he didn't have to prove it to
himself. It must be good, to be like that. He didn't need us when he went to meet Wilf, but he let us come. He said he
needed us. You know, Alex, I think he was trying to give us a bit of confidence in ourselves. D'you see what I mean?"
Alex squinted his eyes. "Hmm, not quite, but one thing I do know, though. Our friend Ben is like nobody I've
ever met."
23.
THE BIG, LOPING LABRADOR MET BEN ON the way up to the house. He sniffed Ben's hand. "Where've