These words, backed by the defiant determination expressed by Fred's face and attitude, brought a cheer from his supporters, while Bart's howled in derision.
"If you think I am afraid of Bart, I'll fool you!" exclaimed Fred, flushing. "I'll meet him to-night at seven, at The Patch."
"And I'll wager sodas for the Second Form, girls barred, against Taffy!" cried Soda.
"I'll just go you, but it's a shame to take your money, Soda. You'd better have any one who believes in Fred chip in, so you won't have to lose so much; sodas for ten Seconds will cost one dollar."
"Which you will have to pay," rejoined Fred's champion.
"Hooray! Here's Bart now!" shouted somebody who had seen the boy emerge from the building.
Instantly all eyes were focused upon the tall form of the boy who had just left the headmaster, while many were the surmises as to what had transpired at the interview. As Bart drew near, the scholars noticed that his swarthy face was flushed.
"I'll bet the Head gave him a fierce trimming," whispered Soda. But his remark was lost in the babel of voices that demanded to know what Mr. Vining had said.
Bart, however, was in no mood to gratify their curiosity, and, with only unintelligible mumbles in response to the questions, stalked moodily away among the trees, looking neither to the right nor to the left.
"My eye! but the Head must have scorched him!" commented Buttons.