“Ow!” screamed Guppy. “I only said——You let me be, Blackie Thorne, or you’ll be sorry——”
Blackie gave the arm another vicious turn. “If I hear you ever say again that I was smoking with Gallegher, I’ll kill you, do you hear?”
“No, you won’t,” said a new voice. Blackie looked up. Facing him were Ken Haviland, Gil Shelton, and a group of older boys who had approached unnoticed.
“Get him!” called Gil in a low tone. He and Sunfish jumped and caught Blackie’s arms.
“Don’t try to struggle, or it’ll be worse for you,” continued Ken. “All right, Gup—he won’t bother you any more.”
Blackie found himself pinioned on both sides, and a husky guard of four veteran campers formed about him. They put him, still struggling, on a locker in the center of the tent. Ken Haviland assumed a seat on top of an upper bunk, where he could look down upon the prisoner.
“The Kangaroo Court will now convene,” he said solemnly.
“What’s the idea?” protested Blackie. “Gil, I thought you and Sunfish and Soapy Mullins were friends of mine!”
“Silence before the judge,” warned Gil. “You are now in court. We’ll let your arms loose if you promise not to run away.”
“But why? If one of the leaders comes along now, you guys will sure look stupid.”