"Well, see that they don't get into trouble again on the streets or you can't save them."
"O, I'll take care of them," and then to Frank, "Come on, boys, let's go over to your room. I wouldn't have you fighting for the world. It isn't a good way to start, you know."
"We simply couldn't help it," Turner burst out. "What would you do in such a case?"
"O, I'd just naturally run," said the officer, and a laugh shook his huge bulk.
"But if you couldn't run?" urged Turner.
"Well, I'd just naturally have to fight, I s'pose," and he laughed again his good-natured laugh which had numberless times quieted turbulent spirits. "We'll forgive you this time. Now where do you live? I'll see you to your rooms. You've had enough fun for the night."
"We live together at Pierson, just around the corner," said Frank.
"Come on then," said the officer, and accompanied by a cheering crowd, the procession moved onward while the roughs, regaining some of their courage, followed at a safe distance and jeered.
The boys gained their room without further trouble, and for an hour looked down on the seething mass on York street below where the classes pushed and struggled in good-natured fun.
"Well, it's been some evening," said the Codfish reminiscently as he daubed arnica on his bruised knee.