“B stands for Bully, and that is what you are, Dan Baxter. Hurry up with that iron, boys.”
“No! No!”
“The iron is getting hot!” came from Dale. He had stepped to one of the windows and brought in a sharp-pointed icicle.
“Nos. 3, 4, 6, and 7 will hold him, while Nos. 1 and 2 perform the operation. No. 5 can remain on guard.”
“If you brand me, I’ll—I’ll——” began the bully.
“Silence! If you dare to cry out, we’ll brand you on the cheeks as well as the forehead.”
“I won’t stand it!” roared the bully and started to get from the gymnasium, bound as he was. But they tripped him up with ease, and as he went headlong, one cadet sat on his breast and another on his legs, rendering him helpless.
“Now then, the iron!” called out Stuffer. “Brand him well.”
The icicle was brought forward, and at the same time one of the boys cut a little lock of hair from his head and lit a match. Then the icicle was run over Baxter’s forehead in the form of the letter B. At the same time the lock of hair was lit and the smell of the burning hair was allowed to reach the bully’s nose.
“Oh! Oh!” yelled Baxter, squirming greatly. “Let up! Don’t burn me! Oh, I’ll be marked for life! Oh, this is outrageous! Don’t, I beg of you! Please let me go! I’ll—I’ll do anything if you’ll only let up on me!”