"This is the only place you can boss!" retorted Cis, turning wild, defiant eyes upon him. "A crippled old man, and a couple of young folks! But you bet you mind Furman!"
"A-a-a-a-a-ah!"
The cry was wrung from Johnnie. For with another loud laugh, Big Tom had dropped the scout hat upon the flames.
"Coward!" charged the girl, again writhing in her ropes. "Low, mean coward!"
It was beyond Johnnie's strength to watch what was happening. He threw up an arm to shut out the sight of Big Tom, and faced the other way. "Oh, don't!" he moaned weakly. "Oh, don't! Don't!" A strange, unpleasant odor was filling the room. He guessed that was the hat. Smoke came wafting his way next—a whole cloud of it—and drifted ceilingward. "Oh, Cis! Cis!" he moaned again.
Some one was in the hall—Mrs. Kukor, for the steps rocked. "Chonnie?" she called now. "Chonnie! Talk sometink!"
It was Big Tom who talked. "Oh, you go home, y' busybody!" he answered.
"Mrs. Kukor! Mrs. Kukor! He's burning everything of Johnnie's!" shouted Cis.
"Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!" burst out Barber, as if this had delighted him. Into the fire he thrust the khaki breeches and the coat, poking them down upon the coals with a hand which was too horny to be scorched by the fire.
"The medal!" mourned the girl. "Oh, I hope they'll punish you for that! And there's something you don't know, but it's the truth, and it'll mean a lot that you won't like!"