It would have been bad enough to be caught in the midst of a simple free fight and sent up to the doctor. But the case was far more terrible than that! For Mr Parrett had been fearfully and wonderfully mixed up in the whole affair. A few weeks ago the Parrett’s juniors had done their best to drown him; now they had done their best to drown him and break his neck and crack his skull all at one onslaught; and as if that wasn’t enough, the Welchers had stepped in at the same moment and added poison and suffocation to the other crimes of which the unlucky master was the victim.
Of course he would think it from the beginning to end one elaborate and fiendish plot against his life. It would not matter to him which boys committed one assault and which another. He had figured as the victim of all parties, and all parties, there could be no doubt, would now be included under one terrific sentence.
In the presence of this common doom, schoolhouse, Parretts, and Welchers for the first time that term showed symptoms of a passing brotherhood.
They stood rooted to the spot and speechless for at least two minutes after the ill-starred master had vanished, then Telson—usually the first to recover his wits—whistled drearily and low, “Whew! we will catch it!”
“Think we’ll be expelled?” said Cusack.
“Shouldn’t wonder,” said Parson, retreating slowly into his study, followed by the rest.
“He’ll send us up to the doctor, certain,” said King.
There was a long unpleasant pause, at the end of which Cusack said, “Well, it’s no use staying here. Come on, you fellows.”
“May as well stay,” suggested Parson. “We’d better all turn up together.”
So it was decided not to break up the party, and that evening the unwonted spectacle of Telson, Parretts, and Welchers, sitting amicably together in one study, might have been noted as one of the greatest wonders of that wonderful term.