“Not for an hour in that spacious compartment,” said the scientific Parson.
“Anyhow, I say we let ’em out,” pleaded Indian.
“An’ I say we don’t!” growled Texas. “That air feller Bull Harris jes’ deserves to be left thar fo’ good! An’ I wouldn’t mind doin’ it, either.”
Texas was usually a very mild and kind-hearted youth, but he was wont to get wroth over the very name of Harris.
“That ole yearlin’s been the cause o’ all our trouble an’ hazin’ since we come hyar!” he cried. “Ever since the day Mark caught him trying to bully a young girl, an’ knocked him down fo’ it, he’s tried everything but murder. He’s too much a coward to fight fair, but he’s laid fo’ us and pitched in to lick us with his gang every time he’s seen us alone. He’s sent Dewey and you, Mark, to the hospital! He got the yearlin’s to take Mark out in the woods an’ beat him.
“An’ he got up that air dirty scheme to skin Mark on demerits; he did all the demeritin’, besides the beatin’. An’ he put up a plot to git Mark out o’ bounds and dismissed. An’ now I say let him stay there till he’s too durnation scared to walk!”
This sentiment was the sentiment of the rest; but Mark smiled when he heard it.
“I think,” he said, “it’s punishment enough to stay in there a minute. We’ll have to let them out pretty soon.”
“An’ ain’t you goin’ to work the other scheme?” cried Texas.
“We’ll work that now,” responded Mark, whispering. “See, there’s the light, anyway.”