The pain made me jump, but I didn’t cry out or make the slightest exclamation. I would have bitten my lips through first; for all the boys were looking on, with the expectation probably of hearing me yell out—especially that sneak Slodgers, who, I made up my mind, should not be gratified by any exhibition of yielding on my part.
“The other now!” cried the Doctor; and, “whack” came a second dose of the flat ruler on my left digits.
“The right again!” sang out the big brute, I obeying without wincing after the first stroke; and so he went on, flaying my poor hands until he had given me six “pandies,” as the boys called the infliction, on each, by which time both of my palms were as raw as a piece of ordinary beefsteak, and, I’m certain, far more tender.
“That will do for a first lesson—ah—Martin Leigh,” said my tormentor, when he had concluded this performance. “You can go now, but, mark me, the next time I hear of your fighting you shall have a double portion! Boys, you’re dismissed.”
With these parting words, Dr Hellyer waved me off; on which I followed slowly after the rest, who had at once rushed off from the room.
Being the last, when I got outside the door, all the boys had disappeared, with the exception of Tom, whom I found waiting for me at the head of the stairs.
I felt inclined to be indignant with him at first for not speaking up for me and contradicting the false statement of Slodgers; but Tom soon persuaded me that such a course on his part would probably only have increased my punishment and brought him in for it as well, without doing good to either of us, or harming the cur who had told such lies about me.
“Dr Hellyer,” said Tom, “always takes everything Slodgers says for gospel, and it’s not a bit of use going against him when brought to book. The only way for you to pay him out, Martin, will be to learn to use your fists properly, and give him a good thrashing some day when we are out of doors. You will then only get some more ‘pandies’ like what you had just now, and I think the gratification of punching his head ought to be worth that.”
“Right you are, Tom,” I replied. “I’m game for it: I will never feel happy till I make him acknowledge the lie he told to-day against me.”
“Bravo, that’s hearty,” said Tom. “You’re a big fellow for your age, and with a little training will soon be a match for that cur, as he’s a coward at heart. But, look here, Martin—see, I didn’t forget you, as I believe you thought I did at tea-time. I saved this for you, as I could see you were hungry.”