“Huh, I’d like to see anyone stop me.”
“Well, you will, if you don’t watch out.”
At the words, Craven skated away from Jerry, evidently mindful of the blow he had received from Harry; and with one accord, the excited crowd of boys broke into small groups whose sole topic of conversation was the news from Lawrenceburgh.
Among the townsfolk as well as the scholars, the story spread, and in due time Mr. Larmore and all the teachers heard of it.
“I don’t belief it!” announced Prof. Schmidt, emphatically, when it was told him at supper. And when he had finished the meal, the kindly old German put on his fur coat and cap and went round to call on Mrs. Watson.
The coming of the professor was distinctly embarrassing to both the good woman and her nephew. But he soon put them at their ease by announcing that he hoped Harry would not let the matter keep him from school.
“That’s just what we were talking about when you came, Professor,” declared Mrs. Watson.
A ring at the door-bell interrupted her and when Harry answered it and admitted the principal of the Rivertown High School, she became even more confused.
Mr. Larmore, however, quickly made it evident that he had come for the same purpose as had the genial old German; and after much talking, Mrs. Watson finally agreed that her nephew should continue his studies.
But it was a quiet and sober Harry who entered his classroom the next morning.