"There is no law or justice in this concern; and we are going to put things to rights," replied Tom Rush, a good fellow, who had spent a week's vacation with me circumnavigating Lake Adieno in the Splash.
"You know I don't approve of any rows or riots," I added.
"No row nor riot about it. We have taken possession of this establishment, and we are going to straighten things out,—you can bet your life on that."
"Where is Mr. Parasyte?"
"He has gone up to see your uncle. He told us, at evening prayers, what an obstinate boy you were; how kind, and tender, and forgiving he had been to you, and how he had exhausted good nature in trying to bring you to a proper sense of duty."
"Did he say that?"
"He did, and much more. But come with us. The fellows have captured the citadel, and we hold the school-room now, waiting for you."
"I will go with you; but I don't want the fellows to make a disturbance."
"No disturbance at all, Ernest; but we have turned the assistant teachers out, and mean to ascertain who is right and who is wrong in this matter."
The rebellion had actually broken out again; and the students, in the most high-handed manner, had established a tribunal in the school-room, to try the issue of my affair with the principal. I followed Bob Hale, Tom Rush, and half a dozen others, who constituted the committee to wait on me. They conducted me to the main school-room, which was a large hall. At every door and window were stationed two or three of the larger boys, with their hockies, bats, and rulers as weapons, to defend the court, as they called it, from any interruption.