'Why, why, Dick?' queried the young man.

Oh, I dunno; on'y he seems that sort, don't he?' Dick had been subjected
to a grave indignity at the hands of the superintendent, and was not in a
frame of mind to form a just estimate of the character of that good man.
He spoke with the cheerful irresponsibility of youth.

'I'm afraid you won't be much good to us, Copper-top, old man, if you
rush at conclusions in that desperate way,' said Harry.

Mrs. Hardy shook an impressive forefinger at the boy.

'You will say nothing to anybody of our intentions, Richard.'

'No,' said Dick simply; but that word given to Mrs. Hardy was a sacred
oath, steel-bound and clamped.


CHAPTER VI.

THE school-ground next morning at nine o'clock showed little of its usual
activity. Most of the boys were gathered near Sam Brierly's Gothic
portico, now in unpicturesque ruins and hanging limply to the school
front like an excrescence. Here Richard Haddon and Edward McKnight were
standing in attitudes of extreme unconcern, heroes and objects of
respectful admiration, but nevertheless inwardly ill at ease and
possessed with sore misgivings. Some of their mates were offering sage
advice on a matter that concerned them most nearly: how to take cuts from
a cane so as to receive the least possible amount of hurt. Peterson was
full of valuable information.