“Mind your own business,” said Jack, in a tone not so polite as it might be. “The less you say about gunpowder, hereafter, the better for you both. Why didn’t you walk up and tell, and save that little fellow a beating?”
“Look here, Jack,” said Berry, “don’t you tell what you know about it. There’s going to be a row. They say that Doctor Lanham’s taken Susan, and all the other children, out of school, because the master thrashed Lummy, and they say Bob Holliday’s quit, and that you’re going to quit, and Doctor Lanham’s gone to work this morning to get the master put out at the end of the term. Mr. Ball didn’t know that Columbus was kin to the Lanhams, or he’d have let him alone, like he does the Lanhams and the Weathervanes. There is going to be a big row, and everybody’ll want to know who put the powder in the stove. We want you to be quiet about it.”
“You do?” said Jack, with a sneer. “You do?”
“Yes, we do,” said Riley, coaxingly.
“You do? You come to me and ask me to keep it secret, after letting me and that poor little baby take your whipping! You want me to hide what you did, when that poor little Columbus lies over there sick abed and like to die, all because you sneaking scoundrels let him be whipped for what you did!”
“Is he sick?” said Riley, in terror.
“Going to die, I expect,” said Jack, bitterly.
“Well,” said Ben Berry, “you be careful what you say about us, or we’ll get Pewee to get even with you.”
“Oh, that’s your game! You think you can scare me, do you?”
Jack grew more and more angry. Seeing a group of school-boys on the other side of the street, he called them over.