Of course no one, not even Paul himself, attached any meaning to such an absurd accusation, but it came conveniently to hand.
This declaration of war was promptly taken up on all sides, and for a short period the Fourth Junior had a rather dusty appearance. When at length a little order was restored, a lively discussion on the crime of Greenfield senior ensued. The Tadpoles to a man believed in it, and gave it as their candid opinion that the fellow ought to be hung. “Yes, and expelled too!” added a few of the more truculent.
The Guinea-pigs, on the other hand, whatever they thought, protested vehemently that Greenfield senior was the most virtuous, heroic, saintly, and jolly fellow in all Saint Dominic’s, and denounced the Tadpoles and all the rest of the school as the most brutal ruffians in Christendom.
“They ought all to be expelled, every one of them,” said one; “all except Greenfield senior, and I hope they will be.”
“All I know is,” said Paul, “I’ll let them have a bit of my mind, some of them.”
“So will I,” said another.
“You haven’t got any to give ’em a bit of,” squealed Bramble, “so now!”
“All right, I’ll give ’em a bit of you then,” retorted Paul.
“You wouldn’t get any of them to touch him with a pair of tongs,” added another.
This was too much for Bramble, and another brief period of dust ensued. Then, comparative quiet once more prevailing, Paul said, “I tell you what, I mean to stick to Greenfield senior.”