"I'll kill you for that," said Barker, leaping at Eric, and seizing him
by the hair.

"You'll get killed yourself then, you brute," said Upton, Russell's
cousin, a fifth-form boy, who had just come into the room--and he boxed
his ears as a premonitory admonition. "But, I say, young un," continued
he to Eric, "this kind of thing won't do, you snow. You'll get into
rows if you shy candlesticks at fellows' heads at that rate."

"He has been making the room intolerable for the last month by his
filthy tricks," said Eric hotly; "some one must stop him, and I will
somehow, if no one else does."

"It wasn't I who put the thing on your head, you passionate young fool,"
growled Barker.

"Who was it then? How was I to know? You began it."

"You shut up, Barker," said Upton; "I've heard of your ways before, and
when I catch you at your tricks, I'll teach you a lesson. Come up to my
study, Williams, if you like."

Upton was a fine sturdy fellow of eighteen, immensely popular in the
school for his prowess and good looks. He hated bullying, and often
interfered to protect little boys, who accordingly idolised him, and did
anything he told them very willingly. He meant to do no harm, but he did
great harm. He was full of misdirected impulses, and had a great notion
of being manly, which he thought consisted in a fearless disregard of
all school rules, and the performance of the wildest tricks. For this
reason he was never very intimate with his cousin Russell, whom he liked