Two minutes later, he was seated beside Crawford, and the horses were bearing them swiftly along, while they chuckled over the neat way in which they had “done old Bobby.”
“Now the ringleaders are out of the way, I hope there will be no more disturbance to-day,” thought the teacher; but his hope was not destined to be realized.
As the door closed behind Henderson, somebody snapped a marble up to the ceiling. As it dropped, it struck Raleigh’s glasses. He started up with the blood streaming from his face where a sliver of glass had cut it.
“Who threw that marble?” said Mr. Horton in a tone that none of them had ever heard from his lips before. Then, as no one answered, he stepped quickly to Raleigh’s side. “Did any of the glass go in your eyes?” he asked anxiously.
“No, sir, I think not,” answered Raleigh, putting his handkerchief up to his cheek, which was bleeding quite freely.
“Come with me to the dressing-room, Raleigh, and Hamlin, you may take charge of the room until I return,” said Mr. Horton, still in that stern tone that boded ill for the one who had caused the trouble.
The room was very quiet while Mr. Horton was absent. When he returned, having sent Raleigh home, he said slowly, “I call upon the boy who threw the marble that injured Raleigh to stand.”
He waited, amid a silence that could almost be felt, but no one moved.
“I understand, of course, that whoever did it, had no intention of injuring anyone. It was simply a piece of the thoughtlessness and lawlessness that prevail in this section, but I intend to find out who is to blame in this instance. Once more—I ask the boy who threw that marble to rise.”
Still no one moved, and the stern look deepened in the teacher’s eyes.