“What—what is it, sir?” he asked.
“You know perfectly what it is,” replied the instructor, his voice shaking with anger. “It is an apple, a rotten apple! Your aim was so good, sir, that it landed against my face! A rotten apple! Outrageous, Danforth, outrageous, I say!”
“But—but, Mr. Adams——”
“If that is your idea of a joke, Danforth, I fear we shall have to tame your humor, sir. It’s insulting, sir, insulting!”
“But I didn’t, sir!”
“You didn’t! Oh, certainly not!”
“I was just coming in when you opened your door and——”
“But I asked you and you confessed!” replied Mr. Adams triumphantly. He was growing calmer, but the crimson spots on his thin cheeks told plainly that his anger still held. “Don’t make matters worse by lying, Danforth.”
“I’m not, sir. I didn’t throw it, word of honor, Mr. Adams!”