The Putnam Hall Rebellion

“We are all in this together,” said Paxton. “The fellow who tries to crawl ought to be kicked.”

“And you’d be the first to do it – if you could,” retorted Pepper. “Just the same, nobody is crawling yet,” he added, quickly.

A warm discussion arose on all sides, and it was generally admitted that, barring the inkwell incident, Josiah Crabtree had gotten no more than he deserved.

“He ought to be kicked out of this school,” said Henry Lee. “We ought to combine and ask Captain Putnam to get rid of him.”

“He’s under contract,” said Bart Conners. “If the captain sent him away, old Crabtree would most likely sue for his salary.”

“I’ll tell you what we can do,” said Jack. “Sit down and begin to study just as if nothing had happened.”

“But if he has gone for the authorities – ” began one of the cadets.

“I don’t think he’ll go. He’ll have to wash that ink off first – and the water will cool him down.”

“He won’t dare to go, for we can complain too,” added Andy.

At that moment the door opened and Pluxton Cuddle stalked in, followed by the gymnasium instructor and Peleg Snuggers. The general utility man carried a cane and looked troubled. The new teacher marched to the platform and the others did the same.

“This room will come to order!” commanded Pluxton Cuddle, but this order was unnecessary, for every cadet was in his seat and all were sitting up as stiff as ramrods. The silence was so complete that the clock in the hall could be heard ticking loudly.

“Mr. Crabtree informs me that a disgraceful scene just occurred here,” went on Pluxton Cuddle. “He was assaulted by books, inkwells and other things. Were it not that he does not wish to bring disgrace upon this institution of learning, he would at once summon the authorities and have all of you placed under arrest.”

The instructor paused, hoping somebody would say something, but not a cadet opened his lips, although all faced the teacher boldly.

“I want the names of all who threw anything at Mr. Crabtree,” continued Pluxton Cuddle. “Everybody who threw anything stand up.”

The cadets looked at one another and nobody budged from his seat.

“Did you hear what I said, young gentlemen?” demanded the new teacher.

To this there was no reply. The students acted as if they were images of stone.

“I will call the roll!” cried Pluxton Cuddle. “Snuggers, go to the door and see that no boy leaves this room.”

“Yes, sir,” answered the general utility man, and with shuffling steps he took up a position as required.

There was a pause, as the new teacher got out the roll book and began to scan the pages. Then, of a sudden, the door opened once more and Josiah Crabtree came in swiftly and marched to the desk. In his hand he held a cat-o’-nine tails.

CHAPTER XIII

PLUXTON CUDDLE’S PROPOSITION

“Say, Jack, this begins to look serious,” remarked Pepper in a whisper, as all eyes were directed to Crabtree and the lash he carried.

“He’ll make a big mistake if he tries to whip us,” was the young major’s comment. “What’s this?” he asked, as a bit of paper was thrust into his hand. The paper read:

“Refuse to say a word about anything. Pass this paper along.”

“That’s the talk,” said the young major, and slipped the sheet to the student behind him. Thus the paper travelled from one end of the classroom to the other.

“I was just going to call the roll, Mr. Crabtree,” said Pluxton Cuddle. “We’ll find out soon who is guilty of assaulting you.”

“Yes! yes! The quicker the better,” answered the other teacher, grimly, and clutched his cat-o’-nine tails tightly.

“If he tries to use that there will be a regular fight, mark my words,” whispered Dale, who sat near Pepper.

“He’s a fool to bring that here, at such a time,” answered The Imp. “What does he take us for, a lot of kids?”

“Addison!” called out Pluxton Cuddle, with his eyes on the roll book. “Stand up!”

The cadet addressed did so.

“Did you throw anything at Mr. Crabtree?”

“I have nothing to say, sir.”

“Do you defy me?” fumed Pluxton Cuddle.

To this the pupil made no answer.

“Sit down! Blackmore, stand up. What have you to say?”

“I have nothing to say, Mr. Cuddle.”

“What! You – er – Is this a plot, sir?”

“I have nothing to say, sir, excepting that I am willing to go on with my lessons, Mr. Cuddle.”

“We’ll have no lessons here until this is settled!” cried Josiah Crabtree. “Call the next pupil.”

“Blossom! What have you to say for yourself?” asked Cuddle.

“I have nothing to say, sir,” replied the first lieutenant of Company A, in the same tone of voice employed by those who had answered before him.

“This is – a conspiracy!” gasped Pluxton Cuddle.

“I told you how it was!” cried Josiah Crabtree. “I think the best thing I can do is to give each pupil present ten lashes with this cat.” And he shook the cat-o’-nine tails in the boys’ faces.

“Mr. Crabtree!” called out Jack, rising. “As major of the school battalion I feel it my duty to speak out. I think the boys would like me to be their spokesman.”

“Yes! yes!” was the cry from all sides.

“Tell him we won’t stand for a licking,” said one boy in the rear.

“Silence!” cried the two teachers simultaneously.

“We want justice!” came from the middle of the room.