“It was all right till I landed on it!” interrupted a strident voice from the other side of the room. “I hope he bleeds to death!”
Startledly, Toby swung about and peered into the shadows. Tubb laughed mirthlessly. “That’s what I’ve got to live with,” he announced. “Its name’s Ramsey. Have a look at it, Tucker. Show the gentleman your face, Percy.”
“You big bully! You—you country jay! You wait! I’ll get square, all right. You’ll have——”
“What is this?” broke in Toby, disgusted and resentful. “You fellows been scrapping?” He stepped around to where the second occupant of the room could be discerned beyond the confusing radiance of the droplight. The appearance of the unhealthily-stout youth confronting him answered the question. Ramsey’s nose was bleeding profusely, and an already overworked handkerchief was doing little to disguise the fact. The boy’s face, pale save for flaming disks of red about the cheek bones, was convulsed with childish, helpless passion, and his dark eyes flashed as venomously as a snake’s.
“You ought to be proud of your friend,” he exclaimed in a voice still high and trembling with anger. “The country jay! All he can do is call names and—and use his fists. I’ll get even, though! I guess the faculty will have something to say! I’ve stood all I’m going to from the dirty-neck——”
“Drop it!” shouted Tubb, springing toward him. Toby pushed him back.
“Listen, you two,” he said vehemently. “There’s been enough of this. I don’t know what it’s all about, but you ought both to be ashamed of yourselves. Any one would think you were a couple of—of gutter kids! This sort of thing doesn’t go here, and you’d better learn that right now. Get a towel, Ramsey, and wash your face. Best way to stop that bleeding is to keep a cold bandage there. You——”
“No one asked your advice,” sputtered Ramsey. “He’s broken my nose——”
“I hope so,” growled Tubb. “I’d like to break your fat neck, Percy!”
“That’s what he does!” Ramsey fairly shrieked. “You heard him! He’s always doing it! I’m going to the Office——”