“Yes, it is,” said Barrington, staring at him defiantly.
“Allow me to tell you that ‘fags’ are not permitted here. The system would not be tolerated by Dr. Frost for a moment. Each boy must wait on himself, and be responsible for himself: seniors and juniors alike. You are not at a public-school now, Barrington. In a day or two, when you shall have learnt the customs and rules here, I dare say you will find yourself quite sufficiently comfortable, and see that a fag would be an unnecessary appendage.”
“Who is that man?” cried Barrington, as Blair turned away.
“Mathematical master. Sees to us out of hours,” answered Bill Whitney.
“And what the devil did you mean by making a sneaking appeal to him?” continued Barrington, seizing Hearn roughly.
“I did not mean it for sneaking; but I could not do what you wanted,” said Hearn. “He had been listening to us.”
“I wish to goodness that confounded fool, Taptal, had been sunk in his horse-pond before he put me to such a place as this,” cried Barrington, passionately. “As to you, you sneaking little devil, it seems I can’t make you do what I wanted, fags being forbidden fruit here, but it shan’t serve you much. There’s to begin with.”
Hearn got a shake and a kick that sent him flying. Blair was back on the instant.
“Are you a coward, Mr. Barrington?”
“A coward!” retorted Barrington, his eyes flashing. “You had better try whether I am or not.”