"This is a young gentlemen's school, not a resort for toughs."
So the cries ran on. Jasniff tried to speak, but nobody would listen to him, and even Plum and Poole knew enough to keep silent. Dave retained his hold a few seconds and then pushed his opponent from him.
"I am done with you, Jasniff," said he, in a clear, hard voice. "Done with you, understand? I'll never dirty my hands on you again. If you dare to molest me in the future, I'll hand you over to the police. They are the only ones to handle such a coward and brute as you."
Everybody heard the words and many applauded them. Plum and Poole fell back and the face of each grew scarlet. Nick Jasniff stood stock still, breathing heavily. He wanted to do something terrible,—but he did not dare. Dave was pale and his jaws were firmly set. The tension all around was extreme.
Then Jasniff moved, turning his back on Dave. He looked at Plum and Poole, but they cast their eyes to the ground. The crowd parted and Jasniff walked away, slowly and unsteadily. In a minute he left the gymnasium, slamming the door after him. There was a long sigh of relief over his departure.
"Dave, I really think he meant to kill you!" said Ben, coming up and clutching his chum by the arm.
"That's what he did!" said Buster Beggs. "His eyes had a terrible look in them."
"Perhaps you are mistaken," answered Dave, in an odd voice that sounded strange even to himself. "But I—well, I don't propose to fight a fellow with Indian clubs."
"He ought to be bounced out of this school," said Luke Watson.
"I'll never speak to him again," asserted Babcock.