As soon as he had recovered from the first shock of his astonishment, stung and bruised, he looked to see who were his assailants, and there he saw about twenty boys, mostly of his own age and size, in fact, belonging to his form; though several of the crowd stood out from the rest, as older and bigger.
Harry's weakness was now turned to indignation.
"You beastly cowards!" he cried, "what have I done to you?"
"Thought to get the prize by cribbing, did you, you sneak?"
"I did not crib," shouted Harry, who had not stirred from where he was first hit by the balls.
"You little liar, you did. Give it him again," cried one of the bigger boys; and then another shower of balls fell thick about him.
"I'm not a liar. It's you're the liars, and the cowards too," he cried, coming nearer the crowd; and then the boys, too, crowded nearer to him.
"Do you mean to call me a liar? Do you mean to call me a coward?" cried one after the other—the bigger boys now being louder and more threatening in their tones.
"Yes, I do," answered Harry, "if you say I cribbed, when I didn't. And you are cowards to all set on one."
"Leave him to me," said Warburton, a tall, ungainly boy of fourteen, as boy after boy was eager to take the quarrel to himself. "I'll teach him. Now, you young brute," he cried, advancing to Harry. "Do you mean to call me a liar and a coward?"