“Not in a year of Mondays,” added Dale. “I don’t know that I did anything to apologize for. He and Cuddle started the row.”
“Mr. Crabtree, I demand my breakfast!” cried Stuffer. “I am entitled to it—my folks have paid for it—and I am not going to let you swindle me out of it.”
“Swindle you!” gasped the teacher, in a rage. “Such language! To me! me! Ha! boy, wait till I get my hands on you!”
“Mr. Crabtree, I think you’ll find it best to let us out and give us our breakfast,” continued the young major. “You certainly can’t intend to starve us.”
“We do intend to starve you, until you come to your senses,” said another voice in the hallway. It was Pluxton Cuddle who had come up. “As I have said many times, you eat too much and it has made you saucy, impudent and unreasonable. An empty stomach may bring you to your senses.”
“It may make us desperate,” murmured Stuffer. “I am not going to let anybody starve me!”
During this talk there had been considerable pounding on the doors of various other dormitories. Evidently the great majority of the cadets were held prisoners in their rooms. Now Josiah Crabtree went off to talk at another door, and was followed by the new teacher.
“Boys, I want you to come to order!” called out Jack, to the cadets of the two rooms that adjoined each other.
“Going to hand around sandwiches?” questioned Stuffer, dolefully. “If you are, give me about six!”
“Pull up your belt, Stuffer,” was the answer, with a smile. “If you don’t get breakfast to-day you may get it to-morrow.”