“Soak him, Andy,” piped up the shrill voice of Sid Wilton, his toady, whom most of the boys disliked even more than they did Andy, if that were possible.
But Andy, at that moment, was not showing any great eagerness to “soak” his antagonist. If Fred had flinched in the slightest degree, he would have been upon him. But as he looked into the flashing eyes that met his defiantly, the “yellow streak” that is in most bullies began to show in Andy. His pallid face grew whiter and a blue tinge showed about his lips.
With the eyes of all upon him, however, he saw no way of retreat, and began to take off his coat.
It was noticeable, though, that he did this with great deliberation.
Suddenly a look of relief came into his eyes as he saw an approaching figure.
“Here comes Professor Raymond,” he said, trying to put into his words a tone of disappointment. “We’ll have to put this off till some other time. Mighty lucky for you, too, or I’d have done you up good and proper,” he flung at Fred, all his courage returning when there was no longer any demand for it.
“Let’s go down to the gymnasium and have it out there,” suggested Fred. But Andy pretended not to hear. He slipped on his coat hurriedly, and, in company with Sid Wilton, strolled off in one direction, while most of the boys scattered in the other.
Professor Raymond sauntered up to a little group, composed of Fred, Teddy, Billy Burton and “Slim” Haley.
His keen eye took in the flushed face of Fred and the air of suppressed excitement among the others. He guessed pretty well what had been about to happen, and, knowing Andy for what he was, he had little doubt as to who had provoked the row. In his secret heart he would not have been at all sorry to have that young cub get the whipping he richly deserved.
Still, of course, he could not tolerate any breach of the rules of the school, which strictly forbade fighting.