on by a number of the boys as they ran out.

Eric, gulping down his fury with a great effort, turned to his opponent,
and said coolly, "Is that what you always do to new fellows?"

"Yes, you bumptious young owl, it is, and that too;" and a tolerably
smart slap on the face followed--leaving a red mark on a cheek already
aflame with, anger and indignation,--"should you like a little more?"

He was hurt, both mind and body, but was too proud to cry. "What's that
for?" he said, with flashing eyes.

"For your conceit in laughing at me when I was caned."

Eric stamped. "I did nothing of the kind, and you know it as well as I
do."

"What! I'm a liar, am I? O we shall take this kind of thing out of you,
you young cub--take that;" and a heavier blow followed.

"You brutal cowardly bully," shouted Eric; and in another moment he
would have sprung upon him. It was lucky for him that he did not, for
Barker was three years older than he, and very powerful. Such an attack
would hare been most unfortunate for him in every way. But at this
instant some boys hearing the quarrel ran up, and Russell among them.

"Hallo, Barker," said one, "what's up?"

"Why, I'm teaching this new fry to be less bumptious, that's all."