Doctor Meredith made his way to where he could command a view of the class that had revolted.
“Young gentlemen!” he began in a mild voice.
“Three cheers for the Doctor!” were called for and given.
“Young gentlemen,” he went on, with a benevolent smile, “you will kindly cease this demonstration, and return to your dormitory.”
“Does that mean we win?” asked Tom respectfully. “We went on strike for better treatment in the Latin class. If we go back, and call the strike off, do we get it?”
“That’s what we want to know,” added Jack Fitch.
“And we want something to eat, too,” spoke Bert Wilson.
“You will return to your dormitory,” went on Doctor Meredith in an even voice. “This must go on no longer.”
“But what about the Latin class?” asked Tom persistently. “Are we to be prisoners? Aren’t we to be allowed to recite, or attend lectures?”
“I will settle all that tomorrow,” said the doctor. “I may state, however, that you will recite, if you do at all to-morrow, to another Latin instructor.”