The boys were dragged inside, and clamored at by a dozen indignant voices. They tried vainly to explain. Finally Thomson restored a semblance of order, and quieted the mob.
“Now, what does this here mean?” he demanded. “You chaps were sneakin’ an’ spyin’ outside that winder. Don’t deny it.”
“We didn’t mean any harm,” stoutly protested Jerry. “We can explain our actions. We came here after our sleds. There they are in the corner, and that’s the man who stole them from us three hours ago.”
He singled out Sparwick from the crowd, and pointed at him.
The detected thief was in a tight place, but he was not prepared to give up. He made a bold attempt at bluffing.
“Them sleds are mine,” he cried. “I’ll wring yer neck, you young liar.”
He sprang forward, and seized Jerry by the collar. He lifted him clear off his feet, and swung him in air.
A chorus of indignant cries rang out. There was a rush from all sides.
“Drop the youngster,” yelled Thomson; and when Sparwick refused to obey, he struck him forcibly on the arm.
Jerry dropped to the floor, and quickly regained his feet.