"Hold on, Edwards!" said Innes. "Don't call names." By this time the passage had filled with fellows, among them Andy Miller. Miller pushed forward.
"What's up, Jack?" he asked of the centre. Innes shrugged his big shoulders.
"Oh, just a scrap. Run along, you fellows. It's all over."
"It isn't over!" declared Steve, still trying to detach himself from the big fellow's grasp. "He's got to take it back! He's got to take it back or fight!"
"Cut it out, Edwards!" said Miller sternly. "Don't act like a kid. What's the trouble, Eric, anyway?"
"Oh, this kid got fresh with me," replied Eric with a malevolent glare at Steve. "Said I had piano legs——" There was an audible snicker from some of the audience—"and I told him to shut up and he made a swipe at me and I shoved him away. That's all."
"He said I cheated!" raged Steve.
"So you did. You stole Upton's French comp. out of Daley's room and he found it on your table."
"That's a lie! I don't know how that book got there. Mr. Daley will tell you——"
"Cut it, Edwards! I saw you carry the book out of the room myself! Now what do you say?"