Quite unawed, cocksure of the weapon he held in reserve, Peter coolly held his ground.
"No, you won't, Forge," he declared. "You'll either send Robin Arkness up the tree for my food, or fetch it down yourself!"
So brazen an outrage to the dignity of a School Captain could not be tolerated for a moment. Forgetting Foxenby etiquette, which had no precedent for a prefect of one House visiting summary justice on a boy of another, Dick raised his hand to cuff Peter soundly. But the Squirm was too quick for him.
"Lay a finger on me, Forge, and I'll tell my father! Yes, I will, and then he'll come straight to the school and tell Old Wykeham how you cheated him out of every penny of the money he spent on your rotten Rooke's House Rag!"
Disgusting little vulgarian! Full well he knew, and vastly did he enjoy, the sensational effect of this revelation amongst the Captain's stanchest supporters. They were clearly staggered by it; he could see them exchanging quick and questioning glances, and the success of his verbal boomerang emboldened him still more.
"I will now have my biscuits and things, Forge, if you please," he smilingly demanded.
Pale with suppressed emotion—anger and chagrin, heart-sinking and mortification—Dick came then to a deliberate decision. Not as Captain of Foxenby, but as plain Dick Forge, grossly insulted in public, would he act.
"You will get what I give you, Mawdster," he quietly said. "And you're not likely to smack your lips over it, either. Turn round!"
"Shan't! If you touch me, I'll tell my father!"
Dick beckoned then to Robin Hood, who ran forward with alacrity.