"Which of you had the audacity to throw pieces of bread at me?"
Still silence.
"I warn you that I will know, and it will be far worse for the guilty if I do not know at once." There was unmistakeable decision in the tone.
"Very well. I know many boys who were not guilty because I saw them in parts of the room where to throw was impossible. I shall now ask all the rest, one by one, if they took any part in this. And beware of telling me a lie."
There was an uneasy sensation in the room, and several boys began to whisper aloud, "Brigson! Brigson!" The whisper grew louder, and Mr. Rose heard it. He turned on Brigson like a lion, and said--
"They call your name; stand out!"
The awkward, big, ungainly boy, with his repulsive countenance, shambled out of his place into the middle of the room. Mr. Rose swept him with one flashing glance. "That is the boy," thought he to himself, "who has been like an ulcer to this school. These boys shall have a good look at their hero." It was but recently that Mr. Rose knew all the harm which Brigson had been doing, though he had discovered, almost from the first, what sort of character he had.
So Brigson stood out in the room, and as they looked at him, many a boy cursed him in their hearts for evil taught them, such as a lifetime's struggle could not unteach. And it was that fellow, that stupid, clumsy, base compound of meanness and malice, that had ruled like a king among them. Faugh!
"They call your name! Do you know anything of this?"
"No!" said Brigson; "I'll swear I'd nothing to do with it."