Jimmy knew perfectly well that they were discussing him, and that in time one of their number would be sent to inform him of the verdict and sentence.
He expected that he would have to fight them all, one by one, and he wondered how many blows he would be able to stand without returning them, for to hit back was out of the question under the unfortunate circumstances.
Jimmy wished they would get it over, for he was quite willing to undergo any form of punishment they might decide upon, if only they would let him know quickly. He hoped they wouldn't make the Biffer fight him, not that he was afraid of the Biffer, but because it would be so hard to keep himself from hitting back, and that he had decided not to do. You see the Biffer was a new boy, and, for another thing, he wore a leather strap round his wrist. On his very first day at school the Biffer had volunteered the information that he once gave a boy such a biff on the nose that he had sprained his wrist, and that ever since he had worn a wrist strap, lest it should happen again. It was Jimmy who had nick-named him the Biffer, and from that time the Biffer had sought Jimmy's blood.
But Jimmy was not easy to quarrel with.
He was the acknowledged champion of Form II., and you had to commit three offences before Jimmy would seriously consider you. At the first offence you got a note with the one word "Beware!" written upon it; at the second, another note with the word "Blood" written underneath a skull and crossbones; and at the third you received a note with the word "Deth," and underneath was the drawing of a coffin.
The Biffer had so far arrived at the second note.
Jimmy did hope they wouldn't choose the Biffer, for he could hear even now the Biffer's yell when he had made that awful mistake which had brought about the present deplorable situation.
Jimmy couldn't think how he had come to say what he did say; he could have bitten off his tongue when he realised it; but it was too late—he had said it.
He tried to think how it had all occurred, and the scene flashed again before his mind. There was the master with his pointer resting upon the Dogger Bank on the map of Europe.
"Who can tell me the name of this sea?" he had said, and Jimmy had snapped his fingers and waved his arm about in his anxiety to catch the master's eye. You see, it was so seldom, so very seldom, that Jimmy felt he knew the right answer to any question, and the new experience was intoxicating. The master too seemed to find it unusual, and he at once turned to Jimmy and said, "Well, what is this sea called, then?" Jimmy, full of the pride of knowledge, burst out with "The North Sea, Sir." Oh! if he had only stopped at that; but in his desire to show how much he knew he added without thinking the fatal words, "or German Ocean!"