“Where’s the iron jaw?” they shouted, all in a breath.
“Where’s the jaw!” echoed Mark, indignantly. “Why don’t you use your eyes and see? It’s lying right there in his lap for you to look at.”
The crowd roared with delight at that; sure enough the man held up a bit of rusty iron in the shape of a human jaw. As for Texas he started back and stared about him in bewilderment.
And then suddenly came a most amazing development. The spectators could put but one construction upon it; the savage Texas was enraged at having been laughed at.
With a muttered exclamation he leaped forward, sprang at a bound to the platform, and rushing at Professor Salvatori dealt him a blow upon the face!
There was the wildest confusion in a moment. The crowd hissed and shouted indignantly. Smithers rushed forward. The rest of the Banded Seven gasped. As for Mark he started back white as a sheet with anger.
“Why Texas!” he cried in an amazed whisper.
“You chump!” muttered Texas under his breath. “Don’t you understand? Fly for your life! Chase me!”
Mark gazed about him in bewilderment; an instant later he caught sight of something that told him all. Just entering the door of the tent, a lady leaning upon his arm, was a blue uniformed figure, a tactical officer, Lieutenant Allen! And quick as a flash Mark saw the ruse, and with a cry of mock rage made a savage leap at Texas.
Texas sprang to the ground, Mark at his heels, and carefully looking away from the distant “tac.” Texas plunged through the crowd, Mark following at full tilt and shouting for vengeance. Texas slid under the tent wall, Mark after him, and then Dewey and the other plebes in full hue and cry. A minute more and they were flying across lots to the shelter of the woods, General Smithers, all his patrons, and in fact all Highland Falls gazing at their flying figures in amazement.