"Speak up?" he fairly yelled, "and what were you 'boobs' doing? Why didn't you back me up! You stood there like dummies. You'd think we were culprits the way he sailed into us. And neither of you opened your mouths."
"That was your job," retorted Dick, "and you got cold feet as soon as he looked at you. I thought you had more sand."
"Sand!" echoed Frank, "maybe you'd do better. Didn't you have your chance yesterday at the rectory? And you said yourself that you went out of the place like a sheep. Don't talk to me about 'sand'. You know yourself it's not lack of courage, either on your part or mine. I could face any one else and have it out. But when I saw his face, and heard his voice, I just wilted. You can't fight a man that's already wounded. The thing is hurting him worse than it hurts us. But I'll be blamed if I know what's up. It's more than that scrap we had, I'm sure of that."
By this time they were down with the rest of the boys.
"Well?" they exclaimed anxiously.
"It's all up," said Frank. "He wouldn't even listen to us. He gave me an awful roast."
"Gosh, fellows, it's tough," added Dick. "You should have seen the way he fired at us. Before we caught our breath, he up and left. We stood stock still for a moment, and didn't know where we were."
"It seems," said Frank, "that he is terribly put out because I did not officially report the matter."
"Well, you'd think there was a robbery or a murder or something like that, the way you fellows talk," said Ned Mullen. "A scrap is a scrap, and that's all there is to it," he added, "and I don't see the reason for all this fuss, except it may be because he is angry that an official was in it."
He paused for a moment and, as the crowd seemed to concur with him, he continued, "I say, Frank, why don't you write him a note? He can't fire at that, nor run away from it. If you write the note, I'll take it to him, or if you don't like that, mail it."