[CHAPTER XVII]
A MIDNIGHT MEETING
“Put down your things and put up your hands!” Pug Kennedy fairly issued the order to Bob as an officer might have done.
“Why should I?” asked the stout youth. “I haven’t finished my dinner.”
“Well, you’re not going to until I finish you. Come on! Put up your hands! I’m a scrapper, but I won’t hit any one with his hands full. Put ’em up, I say, or I’ll smash you in a minute!”
“Don’t you hit him!” called Ned, hastily arising from the opposite side of the table.
“Mind your own business!” ordered Pug.
“Take some one your size!” came a voice from the end of the hall.
“I’ll take you if you want me to!” snapped Pug.
He took a step nearer Bob, and the latter, in very self-defense, was about to set down his plate and cup, when Captain Trainer, who had a habit of unexpectedly dropping into the mess hall, entered the big room. He took in, at a glance, what was about to happen.