"Grit, you've been fighting!" he exclaimed. "How did that happen?" He knew there were no other dogs near the academy with whom his pet would quarrel. He asked the stableman about it.
"Sure Grit's been in a fight," replied one of the hostlers. "I thought you matched him in a scrap wid a dorg in town. Grit won, anyhow. It was a couple a' nights ago."
"Matched him in a fight? Why, did some one—some of the cadets take Grit to town, and let him fight?"
"Thot's what they done, Muster Hamilton, an' they won a pot of money on him too, I understand."
"Who took him? asked Dick, trying to speak calmly.
"Why, uts no secret. Muster Dutton an' Muster Stiver tuck him one night. Ut was a foin foight, I heard 'em say."
Dick started away, after chaining Grit up, a set look on his face.
"I'll have it out with Dutton," he said.
