Drew!"

Alf still lay behind the bush near the edge of the cliff. He
was still present mainly because he had not courage enough to
run away.

"Drew!" Tom repeated, this time speaking sharply, for he guessed
that the cigarette fiend was shaking in his boots.

"Yes, sir," piped the faltering voice of Alf.

"Drew, run to camp as fast as you can. Tell Ferrers to bring
the whole crowd over at once."

Alf was astounded by this staggering command, which sounded like
an order to rush an army to the spot. Yet he managed to gasp:

"Yes, sir."

"Now, go! Make fast time. Don't let any of this outfit catch
you and hinder you."

"No, sir!"

This time Alf Drew's voice sounded faintly, over his shoulder
from a considerable distance, for the boy was running fast, fear
lending speed his feet.

"You see," Tom went on coolly, standing so that he could face
both factions in this quarrel, "I don't know much about the merits