“I should cut down their supply of food. That is the whole fault in this school—the boys get too much to eat, sir, entirely too much. It makes animals of them, yes, sir, animals!” Pluxton Cuddle was beginning to mount his hobby. “I have told Captain Putnam about it already. If the boys had only half of what they get now they would be brighter, quicker to learn, and much more easy to manage. As it is, they get large quantities of meat and it makes perfect bulls of them—and the pastry clogs their brains, and they can’t learn their lessons even if they try. Put them on half rations, and in less than a week you will behold a wonderful change in them.”
“Humph!” mused Josiah Crabtree, struck by a sudden idea. “It might be a good thing to cut down their food—give them say one meal a day until they got to their senses.”
“Two small meals,” interposed Pluxton Cuddle, eagerly. “And meat but once every forty-eight hours—and no pastry of any kind. It would do them a world of good.”
“Well, do as you think best, Mr. Cuddle. You have charge of them outside of the classrooms, remember.”
“Then you agree?” questioned Pluxton Cuddle eagerly.
“You may do as you please—I leave them entirely in your hands, outside of the classrooms. During school hours my word must be law.”
“Exactly, I understand.” Pluxton Cuddle began rubbing his hands together. “We’ll start on the new system of meals this very evening.”
“Do as you like.” Josiah Crabtree paused. “But I must finish what I started out to do.” He looked at Jack. “Ruddy, since you seem so very anxious to talk, what have you to say for yourself?”
“I wish to speak for the whole class—or at least for the majority of the boys,” corrected the young major, with a glance at Ritter, Coulter, Paxton and Sabine.
“Well, out with it!” snapped Crabtree.