Much alarmed at Hogan’s sudden fury, the bully and his crony kept away from the shore. They swam to the rowboat and clambered on board. Then, dripping from head to feet, they picked up their floating caps, and took up the oars.
“You think you’re smart, but I’ll show you!” cried Reff Ritter.
“’Tis your own fault,” answered Emerald. “Supposin’ I had been drowned, what thin, eh? Bad cess to you, Ritter! You’re a bad egg, if iver there was wan!”
To this the bully did not dare make answer, and he and his crony rowed off. They went to a secluded but sunny spot up the lake, and there dried themselves as best they could.
“I told you not to do it,” whined Coulter.
“Oh, dry up, you make me tired,” answered Ritter, and for the remainder of the day he and Coulter had little to do with each other.
“What makes you so wet?” asked Paxton, when the pair went back to the camp.
“Oh, we got into a mix-up with some of the cadets and fell overboard,” answered Ritter, in an off-handed manner. “Where have you been?” he added, quickly, to avoid giving further particulars.
“Went up to the head of the lake,” answered Paxton. “And say, I and Mumps made a discovery,” he added. Mumps was, as my old readers know, a small cadet whose real name was John Fenwick. He was a good deal of a sneak and continually toadying to those bigger than himself.
“What did you discover?”