CHAPTER XXVIII

TOM HICKSLEY GETS A THRASHING

The boys looked for a moment as though they almost regretted having let the cat out of the bag.

"Come along, now," urged Bobby eagerly.

"Let's have the whole story," cried Fred.

"It--it was Tom Hicksley," Jimmy stammered.

"I knew it," cried Fred jubilantly.

"Do you know that, or are you only guessing?" asked Bobby, wild with anxiety.

"We _saw_ him do it," returned Charlie, who saw now that the only thing left was to tell the whole story.

"We were going along the hall to Mr. Carrier's classroom that afternoon," put in Jimmy, "and the door into your room was open because the day was so warm. We peeped in as we went by, and we saw Hicksley take the egg out of his pocket and throw it into the electric fan."

"And why didn't you tell about it before?" asked Fred.

"'Cause we were afraid that Hicksley would lick us if we did," confessed Jimmy.

"He's so much bigger than we are, and he jumped on us once for nothing at all," added Charlie in self-defense.

"That's all right," said Bobby, who was perfectly willing to excuse them, now that he saw he was going to be cleared. "We all know that he's a big bully and always picking on the little fellows."

"You come right along with me," said Fred, in a masterful way. "You keep out of this, Bobby. I'll have this thing fixed up in a jiffy."

Bobby was perfectly satisfied to leave the settlement of the matter in the hands of his loyal friend, and he went on to the dormitory, while Fred headed the little procession that a few minutes after marched into the office of Mr. Leith.

What went on there was shown the following morning after Mr. Leith had called his class to order.

"Blake," he said, clearing his throat, "come up here."

Bobby went up and stood in front of the desk.

"Blake," went on Mr. Leith, "I did a great injustice to you a few weeks ago, and I want to apologize to you before the whole class. I have found out the real culprit. I know the name of the boy who threw the egg into the electric fan."

There was a buzz of wild excitement in the class, and Hicksley, together with his two cronies, flushed red and grew pale in turn.

"That will do, Blake," Mr. Leith went on. "You may go to your seat."

Bobby retired, murmuring something, he did not know what.

"Hicksley, come here," commanded the teacher. "And you, Bronson, and Jinks, come along."

The three of them, with shuffling steps and hang-dog looks, walked slowly up the aisle.

"Hicksley," said Mr. Leith severely, "you said at the time this thing happened that you actually saw Blake throw the egg. I do not want to condemn you without your being heard, and I am going to give you this chance to tell the truth. Are you willing to stand by your statement, or do you wish to take it back?"

Hicksley hesitated for a moment and then decided to bluff it out.

"I did see him," he muttered doggedly.

"Martin," directed Mr. Leith. "Step to the door and tell White and Thacker to come in."

Fred did as ordered and returned, bringing the two small boys with him.

"Tell me now, boys, what you told me yesterday," the teacher commanded.

They looked fearfully at Hicksley and his companions, who shot threatening glances at them. But they went ahead and related what they had seen on the afternoon in question. The simple story bore the mark of truth on its face and carried conviction.

Mr. Leith dismissed them and turned to the three in front of him.

"What have you to say to this?" he demanded.

They kept silent, with their heads lowered, and after a moment the teacher continued:

"I am not going to say anything more just now to add to the shame you must be feeling. You are all to report to Doctor Raymond in his study at three o'clock this afternoon. That is all for the present."

They stumbled back to their seats, avoiding the contemptuous looks of their schoolmates. And that afternoon at the hour named they had the interview they dreaded with the head of the school.

That interview was short, but quite long enough to make their faces blanch and their hearts quake. If Hicksley had been guilty simply of denying the act as having been done by him, that would have been bad enough, but the punishment would have been lighter. But to try deliberately to put it on another was unforgivable. Hicksley was dismissed from the school and Bronson and Jinks were suspended for the remainder of the term.

Hicksley, boiling with rage, went to his room to pack. On his way down to summon the expressman, he met Bobby coming alone up the stairs.

Hicksley saw his opportunity and plunged heavily into Bobby, sending him stumbling backwards down the stairs almost to the lower landing. Had it not been for a wild clutch at the banister, Bobby would have fallen flat on his back.

All his fighting blood awoke at this unprovoked assault. It was the last straw. He had been under great restraint for the past few weeks while the injustice done him had rankled sorely. He clenched his fists, and as the bully reached the landing he received a blow that drove his head back and chased the malicious grin from his face.

In a moment the two boys were fighting, hammer and tongs. Hicksley was the larger but Bobby was strong and as quick as a young wildcat. Besides, he had no "yellow streak" in him.