“Next time you want to tell any such stories about me, Winslow, just remember that what I’ve done once I can do again, and keep out of my sight, unless you want a worse thrashing than this. And now,” he added, with cutting sarcasm, “if you aren’t afraid, you’d better get up and get somebody to brush your back off, for it’s almost chapel time, and being late might hurt your chances of promotion.” And turning on his heel, he went in search of his brother to whom he told the story of the fight, with a strange mingling of pleasure and shame as he recounted the insults of Winslow and his speedy punishment.
“’Twas all you could do, Leon,” said Harry admiringly, when his brother paused. “It had to come, for he was going to walk over you till you put a stop to his impudence. The worst of it is, I’m afraid this ends your chance of promotion, for the doctor is down on fighting. You’ll be well off, if you get out of it without a week’s arrest.”
Leon groaned at the thought. Indeed, the idea of a week spent in his room, only varied by going to and from his lessons, was not an attractive one; and moreover, this was Wednesday and on Saturday came the long-anticipated football game. The rest of the morning was spent by Leon in alternating periods of hope and fear, which last was not lessened by seeing Winslow go limping up the steps to the doctor’s door, and later by overhearing a summons to Harold King to go to the doctor at noon.
Soon after noon his own call came, and he slowly made his way to the doctor’s study, which was always the scene of interviews of a like nature. It was Leon’s first introduction to the place and, as he glanced nervously about, it seemed to him that the very writing-table took on an austere frown, and that the copy of a Verestschagin above the mantel looked unnecessarily vengeful and destructive. Then he looked at the doctor, and felt an immediate relief. Though unusually grave, it was still the same kind, just, quiet man whom he knew so well.
“Arnold,” said the doctor slowly, “I am told that you have been fighting.”
Leon looked at him without flinching.
“Yes,” he admitted; “I knocked Winslow over.”
“But don’t you know that it is against the rules of the school?”
Leon bowed in silence.
“Then why did you do it?” asked the doctor again.