“Break away!” cried Gus Coulter. “Fight him fair, Ruddy.”
“This isn’t a fight—I am merely giving him the thrashing he deserves,” answered the young major. “You keep out of it—or I’ll serve you the same,” he added, so sharply that Coulter stepped back in alarm.
How badly Jack might have damaged Ritter it is hard to state. He was thoroughly aroused and anxious to give the bully a “dressing down” he should never forget. But in the midst of the excitement a cry of alarm arose from Paxton, who had been looking anxiously towards the school building.
“Cheese it!” he called out. “Somebody is coming!”
“It’s old Crabtree!” exclaimed Stuffer. “Boys, we have got to leg it, unless we want to get caught,” he added, as the tall and angular form of the teacher was seen to emerge from the school building.
Jack had no more desire to be caught than anybody else and he quickly relinquished his hold on the bully and picked up his jacket and cap. Ritter was so dazed that he staggered for a second when let alone.
“Yo—you just wait, Jack Ruddy!” he muttered. “Just wait! I’ll get even, if it takes a lifetime to do it!”
“I’ll finish the thrashing some other time, Ritter,” answered the young officer, and then he and his chums ran in one direction while the bully and his cronies ran in another.
“Stop! stop!” came in the harsh, dictatorial voice of Josiah Crabtree, and he came rushing over the campus, cane in hand. “Stop, whoever you are!”
Fortunately for the cadets the moon, which had been shining clearly, now went under a heavy cloud, leaving the campus in darkness. The gloom was disastrous for the teacher, for in his hurry he did not see a low bench bordering the path. He bumped into the bench heavily, lost his balance, and went sprawling on his chest and face.