Mr. Hathorn stood petrified with astonishment and white with anger.

"So you are at the bottom of this, Sankey. I will make an example
of you."

So saying, he took a stride forward toward Ned. In an instant a
shower of books flew at him from all parts of the room. Infuriated
by the attack, he rushed forward with his cane raised. Ned caught
up a heavy inkstand.

"If you touch me," he shouted, "I will fling this at your head."

Mr. Hathorn hesitated. The shower of books had not affected him,
but the heavy missile in Ned's hand was a serious weapon. In another
moment he sprang forward and brought his cane down with all his
force upon Ned's back.

Ned at once hurled the heavy inkstand at him. The schoolmaster sprang
on one side, but it struck him on the shoulder, and he staggered
back.

"You have broken my shoulder, you young scoundrel!" he exclaimed.

"I shouldn't care if I had broken your head," Ned retorted, white
with passion; "it would have served you right if I had killed you,
you tyrant."

"One of you go and fetch a constable," Mr. Hathorn said to the
boys.