“Depends on what you call the whole hog,” I replied.
“Why, instead of feeding them up like fighting-cocks I’d starve them—I would. And I’d have locked them all together in an empty garret, and not in rooms with sofas and beds and all that nonsense. And I wouldn’t let them out till they came out on their knees and promised to do whatever they were ordered. That’s what I’d do, and I’ll tell—”
“Now then, Rathbone,” cried Smith, entering at that moment, “it’s your turn to look after the grub, remember. Look alive, or we shall have no breakfast.”
It was a curious indication of the power that was in my friend Smith, that Rathbone—though the words of mutiny were even then on his lips—quietly got up and went off to his allotted duties without saying a word.
“Look here,” said Smith, presently, pulling two papers from his pocket, “I’ve written out the terms we agreed to. How will this do?
“‘To Mr Ladislaw, Miss Henniker, and Mr Hashford,—We, the undersigned boys of Stonebridge House, are willing to release you on the following conditions:
“‘1. That leave be given to the boys to talk to one another when not in class.
“‘2. That detention for bad marks given by Miss Henniker be abolished.
“‘3. That you say nothing to any one about all this.
“‘As long as you stick to these conditions, and Miss Henniker doesn’t plague us, we agree to be steady and not mutiny any more.’ That’s about all we need say, isn’t it?”