As the door closed behind Jeffreys, Jonah, hardly knowing what he did, gave vent to a hysterical laugh.
It was the signal for an explosion such as he had little counted on.
“Thou little dirty toad!” said the farmer, rounding on him wrathfully; “what dost mean by that? Hey? For shame!”
“Beast!” shouted Freddy, choking with anger and misery.
“Beast!” echoed the school.
Some one threw a wet sponge across the room, but Mr Rosher intercepted it.
“Nay, nay, lads; don’t waste your clean things on him. Freddy and Teddy, my lads—where’s Teddy?—come along home. You’ve done with Galloway House.”
“Why, sir—” expostulated the wretched Jonah.
“Hold thy tongue again,” roared the farmer. “Coom away, lads. Thee can take a half-holiday to-day, all of you, and if thy parents ask why, say Farmer Rosher will tell them.”
“I’ll have you prosecuted,” growled Trimble, “for interfering with my—”