"Shan't!" said Osbody.
"Thou flatly refuseth, then, to hand the miscreants over to justice?"
"What miscreants? What justice?"
"A murrain on thee for thy saucy back-talk! There will be more trouble than thou wottest of if thou dost not speedily humble thy pride."
Osbody could see that Robin was in a mighty passion at the recollection of the quenched fire, and the heart of the leader of the Squirms sank within him. He was just about to make a clean breast of it when, glancing at Grain, he saw that youth looking at him with contemptuous eyes, as much as to say: "I know you're going to blab to save your precious skin." For it was Grain who had planned and carried out the squirting scheme, besides insisting on mixing chemicals with the fluid, a notion which Osbody had condemned as dangerous.
Grain's sneering gaze stiffened Osbody's back.
"You can save your breath, Arkness," he said. "You know as much about it as you ever will."
"All right, you chump!" answered Robin, dropping back into modern speech. "If you will ask for it, you shall have it, and not only you, but every one of your gang that we've got trussed up to-day, innocent and guilty alike. Boys, bring the master Squirm to the old bonfire."
Laughing in gleeful anticipation of what was to come, the two Merry Men who held Osbody fast dragged him, kicking and struggling, to the ashes of the bonfire which the Squirms had previously extinguished with squirts. Beside this Robin knelt, scooping up a generous handful of black ashes.
With a quick inkling of what was coming, Osbody redoubled his efforts to get free. Finding himself too well held, he panted: