Suddenly, above all the hubbub, rose a voice, clear and sharp.
"Stop!" It was Thomas Finch, of all people, standing with face white and tense, and regarding the master with steady eyes.
The school gazed thunderstruck at the usually slow and stolid Thomas.
"What do you mean, sir?" said the master, gladly turning from Jimmie. But Thomas stood silent, as much surprised as the master at his sudden exclamation.
He stood hesitating for a moment, and then said, "You can thrash me in his place. He's a little chap, and has never been thrashed."The master misunderstood his hesitation for fear, pushed Jimmie aside, threw down his strap, and seized a birch rod.
"Come forward, sir! I'll put an end to your insubordination, at any rate. Hold out your hand!"Thomas held out his hand till the master finished one birch rod.
"The other hand, sir!"
Another birch rod was used up, but Thomas neither uttered a sound nor made a move till the master had done, then he asked, in a strained voice, "Were you going to give Jimmie all that, sir?"The master caught the biting sneer in the tone, and lost himself completely.
"Do you dare to answer me back?" he cried. He opened his desk, took out a rawhide, and without waiting to ask for his hand, began to lay the rawhide about Thomas's shoulders and legs, till he was out of breath.
"Now, perhaps you will learn your place, sir," he said.
"Thank you," said Thomas, looking him steadily in the eye.
"You are welcome. And I'll give you as much more whenever you show that you need it." The slight laugh with which he closed this brutal speech made Thomas wince as he had not during his whole terrible thrashing, but still he had not a word to say.
"Now, James, come here!" said the master, turning to Jimmie. "You see what happens when a boy is insubordinate." Jimmie came trembling. "Hold out your hand!" Out came Jimmie's hand at once.
Whack! fell the strap.
"The other!"
"Stop it!" roared Thomas. "I took his thrashing.""The other!" said the master, ignoring Thomas.
With a curious savage snarl Thomas sprung at him. The master, however, was on the alert, and swinging round, met him with a straight facer between the eyes, and Thomas went to the floor.
"Aha! my boy! I'll teach you something you have yet to learn."For answer came another cry, "Come on, boys!" It was Ranald Macdonald, coming over the seats, followed by Don Cameron, Billy Ross, and some smaller boys. The master turned to meet them.
"Come along!" he said, backing up to his desk. "But I warn you it's not a strap or a rawhide I shall use."Ranald paid no attention to his words, but came straight toward him, and when at arm's length, sprung at him with the cry, "Horo, boys!"But before he could lay his hands upon the master, he received a blow straight on the bridge of the nose that staggered him back, stunned and bleeding. By this time Thomas was up again, and rushing in was received in like manner, and fell back over a bench.
"How do you like it, boys?" smiled the master. "Come right along."The boys obeyed his invitation, approaching him, but more warily, and awaiting their chance to rush. Suddenly Thomas, with a savage snarl, put his head down and rushed in beneath the master's guard, paid no attention to the heavy blow he received on the head, and locking his arms round the master's middle, buried his head close into his chest.
At once Ranald and Billy Ross threw themselves upon the struggling pair and carried them to the floor, the master underneath. There was a few moments of fierce struggling, and then the master lay still, with the four boys holding him down for dear life.
It was Thomas who assumed command.
"Don't choke him so, Ranald," he said. "And clear out of the way, all you girls and little chaps.""What are you going to do, Thomas?" asked Don, acknowledging Thomas's new-born leadership.
"Tie him up," said Thomas. "Get me a sash."At once two or three little boys rushed to the hooks and brought one or two of the knitted sashes that hung there, and Thomas proceeded to tie the master's legs.
While he was thus busily engaged, a shadow darkened the door, and a voice exclaimed, "What is all this about?" It was the minister, who had been driving past and had come upon the terrified, weeping children rushing home.
"Is that you, Thomas? And you, Don?"
The boys let go their hold and stood up, shamed but defiant.
Immediately the master was on his feet, and with a swift, fierce blow, caught Thomas on the chin. Thomas, taken off his guard, fell with a thud on the floor.
"Stop that, young man!" said the minister, catching his arm.
"That's a coward's blow."
"Hands off!" said the master, shaking himself free and squaring up to him.
"Ye would, would ye?" said the minister, gripping him by the neck and shaking him as he might a child. "Lift ye're hand to me, would ye? I'll break you're back to ye, and that I will." So saying, the minister seized him by the arms and held him absolutely helpless. The master ceased to struggle, and put down his hands.
"Ay, ye'd better, my man," said the minister, giving him a fling backward.
Meantime Don had been holding snow to Thomas's head, and had brought him round.
"Now, then," said the minister to the boys, "what does all this mean?"The boys were all silent, but the master spoke.
"It is a case of rank and impudent insubordination, sir, and Idemand the expulsion of those impudent rascals.""Well, sir," said the minister, "be sure there will be a thorough investigation, and I greatly misjudge the case if there are not faults on both sides. And for one thing, the man who can strike such a cowardly blow as you did a moment ago would not be unlikely to be guilty of injustice and cruelty.""It is none of your business," said the master, insolently.
"You will find that I shall make it my business," said the minister. "And now, boys, be off to your homes, and be here Monday morning at nine o'clock, when this matter shall be gone into."
