Greene and Spendly exchanged grins. Clif’s face reddened slightly, and a peculiar smile, ominous and dangerous, crossed his lips.
“I must confess I do not recognize it,” he began. “But I think——”
“Think!” Corporal Sharpe cried. “We want no thinking here. You confess, eh? Why don’t you confess the truth—that you are a dunce, a blamed idiot. A——”
There was a startling interruption.
Before he could finish the sentence Nanny sprang from the group and flung himself upon the young officer. There was a sharp clasp, a second blow, then the corporal staggered back with his assailant clinging to his throat.
The sudden attack was conceived and made in the twinkling of an eye. It was a complete surprise to Cadet Corporal Sharpe and to all who witnessed it. Clif and his friends stared in open-mouthed wonder for a moment, then the former sprang forward to separate the two.
By that time, however, the cadet corporal, who was much stronger than Nanny, had shaken him off. Sharpe was white with rage.
“What do—do you mean, you fool?” he gasped. “How dare you lay hands on me? I’ll——”
He drew back his clinched fist to strike the younger lad, but his wrist was grasped firmly, and a cool voice said: