"What are we going to do with him?" he asked.
"This," said Ernest. He pulled a quantity of very strong waxed cord from his pocket. It was some he sometimes had need of in fixing his plane.
With a quick twist he had a loop around Frank's ankles, and then, dragging the resisting boy to his feet, he jammed him down on a chair and proceeded to fasten him neatly to it.
"Now," he said, "what next?"
"Next is to save Lee from Leavenworth," said Bill. "Mother says he will kill himself if ever he gets there. He can't stand the disgrace. If you will stick around and watch this fellow, I will go down and see about sending the telegram."
"You had better stay here, and I will go," offered Ernest. "It is too late for you underclass fellows to be out in the corridor, and I can go down and rush the message. I have a pull with the telephone boy. Write your message."
"Don't do it; you will ruin me!" cried Frank.
Bill stared. "Ruin you; ruin you? What do you mean?"
"Why, you know what this will mean to me if it gets back on the Post. What's Lee, anyhow? Just a half-breed private! Let him take his medicine!"
Bill paled and Ernest made an involuntary motion as though he was going to strike the coward down. Bill controlled himself with an effort.