Dangle glared defiantly, and remained where he was, whereupon Rollitt, without another word, lifted him in his arms like a child, and slinging him across his shoulders marched forth.
Wakefield’s boys were just trooping up the staircase from the fields, and at this strange apparition stood still and made a lane for it to pass. Dangle’s struggles were futile. The giant, if he was aware of them, heeded them no more than the kicking of a kitten, and proceeded deliberately down the stairs, past everybody, juniors, middle-boys, prefects and all, and walked with his burden out at the door. There every one expected the scene would end.
But no. He walked on sedately across the Green. Indifferent as to who saw him or what they said, until he came to the door of Forder’s house, where he entered. Up the stairs he stumped amid gaping juniors and menacing middle, boys until he reached his captive’s study; where without ceremony he deposited him, and, not vouchsafing a word, turned on his heel.
Strangely enough, no one had the presence of mind to challenge him or demand reparation for the insult to their house. He neither dawdled nor hurried.
At the door a bodyguard of Classics had assembled to meet him and escort him back. But he had no need of their services. He made his way through them as coolly as if he was coming from class; and utterly indifferent to the rising clamour and shouts behind him—for the Moderns had by this time recovered breath enough to use their tongues—reached Wakefield’s, where without a word to any one he proceeded to his own study and shut himself in to continue the scientific experiments which had only been interrupted a few minutes before by the sudden cry of distress from the one boy in Fellsgarth to whom he owed the least obligation.
Chapter Ten.
How Percy got back his Football.
It was not to be expected that in the present state of party feeling at Fellsgarth the incident recorded in the last chapter would be confined to a personal quarrel between Dangle and Rollitt.