“Humph! What are you trying to do, scare me? It didn’t hurt you to be locked in.”
“Ritter, you listen to me,” broke in the young major, and now his voice was so cold and uncompromising that all in the crowd held their breath. “You admit that you locked us in the belfry, don’t you? You know what it would have meant for me if I had been caught there, and you know what it would have meant for the school. It was mean, dirt mean. I thought you were going to turn over a new leaf—be like the rest of the fellows. Now—well, I think I’ll teach you a lesson.”
“Me, a lesson?” faltered Reff Ritter.
“Exactly. I made a mistake when I didn’t let Captain Putnam expel you. The whole school would have been better off for it. Take off your jacket and cap.”
“Why?”
“Because I am going to give you a sound thrashing—and do it before we go to bed.”
“Humph! Want to fight, eh?”
“No, I didn’t say anything about a fight, I said I was going to give you a sound thrashing.”
“If you fight we’ll all be caught!” cried Nick Paxton, in alarm. “Put it off till to-morrow.”
“Yes, let us get to bed!” added Coulter. “I won’t say a word about your being at the church.”