Excerpt
CHAPTER I.
JASPER'S VICTORY.
A dozen boys were playing ball in a field adjoining the boarding-school of Dr. Pericles Benton, in the town of Walltham, a hundred and twenty-five miles northeast of the city of New York. These boys varied in age from thirteen to seventeen. In another part of the field a few younger boys were amusing themselves. All these boys were boarding-scholars connected with the school.
The ball had been knocked to a distance by the batter, and it was the duty of Nicholas Thorne, one of the oldest boys, to ran after it. But he thought of an easier way.
"Cameron, run for that ball!" he cried, addressing one of the smaller boys outside the game.
"I don't want to," said little Cameron.
"Did you hear what I said?" demanded Thorne, imperiously.
"Yes."
"Then you'd better go if you know what's best for yourself," said the bully, frowning.
"I ain't in the game," said Cameron. "Why should I get the ball?"
"Because I say so!" retorted the tyrant.
"Run after it yourself, Thorne," said a lad named Davies. "It's your business, not Cameron's."
"It's his business, because I ordered him to do it," said Thorne, flushed and angry. "Do you think I will allow him to bully me?"
"The boot's on the other leg," said Davies, dryly. "Run after the ball, and don't keep the game waiting."
"That's so," said half a dozen voices. "Let Cameron alone."
"I won't let him alone," said Thorne, who had by this time worked himself into a towering passion. "I'll give him the worst flogging he ever had, if he doesn't obey me!"
So saying, he advanced toward Cameron in a menacing manner.
Thorne was the acknowledged bully of the school. He was a big, hulking fellow, with a heavy figure and a repulsive face, and small ferret eyes, emitting a cold and baleful light. He was more than a match for any of his fellow-pupils, and availed himself of his superior physical strength to abuse and browbeat the smaller boys. Knowing his strength he was not afraid of interference, and usually carried his point. If Cameron had not been particularly occupied playing marbles with a boy of his own age he would not have ventured to object to obey the despot. When he saw Thorne advancing toward him with a cruel light in his eyes he became frightened, and said, hurriedly:
"Don't pound me, Thorne, I'll go."
"Yes," said Thorne, between his teeth, "you'll go; but you ought to have done so at first. I'll give you something to remind you to be more prompt next time."
"Don't hit me, Thorne!" pleaded the little boy, with tears in his eyes. "I'm going."
"Shame, Thorne!" exclaimed Davies.
Thorne glared at Davies wrathfully.
"Take care how you talk," he said, "or it'll be your turn next!"
Davies was two inches shorter than Thorne, and by no means his equal. So, honestly indignant as he was, he didn't venture to say any more.
Little Cameron turned to run, despairing of help, and Thorne started to pursue him. Of course there was no chance of the smaller boy's escape, or would not have been, but for an unexpected incident....