"Stop that instanter!" commanded Peachy.
"We're here to see fair play!" snarled Jess.
"Be content with your own portions!" flared Delia.
"Well, really! Who asked you to boss us?" retorted Bertha angrily.
"Nobody; but we're going to stop your mean tricks, so we give you warning. You two are a disgrace to the Transition. I don't know what flags you class yourselves under, but I'm sure neither America nor Britain would be proud to own you—you biscuit-snatchers!"
Peachy's eyes were snapping sparks, and the matter might have waxed even warmer had not Rachel reëntered the room for a pencil she had dropped. The head prefect pricked up her ears at the sound of the disturbance, whereupon Mabel and Bertha, who knew they would receive short shrift if she demanded an explanation, made a hasty exit, merely murmuring to Jess and Peachy as they pushed past them:
"We'll pay you out for this!"