He got up in great haste, grabbed his wig from the ground, clapped it on his head hind side before and at once started to climb the tree.
The sight of the short, fat, bald drillmaster, with his wig awry, endeavoring to climb a little tree was too much for the dignity of the boys and they burst into a roar of laughter.
They had no thought of consequences, no fear of future punishment, but just laughed as hard as they could.
Then there was a sudden cry of alarm around a turn in the road.
“Hallo! what’s that?” cried Arthur.
“Great Scott! there is a mad dog after all!” gasped Harry.
A number of the smaller boys of the Academy suddenly appeared in full flight pursued by a panting, yelping, foam-covered dog whose every look showed that he was mad.
“H’m! the alarm was not given for nothing after all,” muttered Billy, looking for a place of safety.
Harry and Arthur turned toward the Academy and ran as fast as they could, thinking nothing of fun now.
“Here, here, I must do something for those kids!” cried Billy, pausing in his flight.