“Now, fellows, is your chance!” cried Stuffer. “A little water from one of the pitchers—”
“Whoop!” came from Hogan. “It’s a bath he’s afther nadin’, sure!” And up the stairs he bounded. Water pitcher in hand, he approached a window over the one the teacher was trying to open. Then down came the water on the teacher’s head, wetting him thoroughly.
“Ouch!” roared Josiah Crabtree, and began to dance around. “Oh, the water has gone down my back! It’s ice-cold! Oh, I’ll pay you for that!”
“Thank you, no payment requoired!” said Hogan, softly, and closed the window again.
“Emerald, you’re a gem!” said Andy. “Won’t old Crabtree feel fine with a wet back on such a bitter night as this?”
“If you don’t let me in I’ll—I’ll have the law on some of you!” yelled Josiah Crabtree. “This is—er—preposterous! Open the door!”
“All the winders is tight shut,” said Peleg Snuggers, who had been making an examination. “I must say, I dunno how we are to git in, Mr. Crabtree.”
“We must get in,” fumed the teacher. “Why, my back feels like a—er—an icicle.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“If I stay out here I’ll catch my death of cold.”