"I was n't—you're not fair, Rupe!" cried Harry, choking with mortification and anger.
But he could not say another word in his defense, and Rupert passed him over with an ironical glance. Herrick still kept his grip on Stoddard, but he looked at Rupert with sullen eyes, in which there was as much indecision as wrath.
"You'd better mind your own business!" he said. "You're too fond of butting in."
"That comes well from a fellow who holds up another and takes his pin from him and tries to wring his secret out of him by force," Rupert said scornfully. And in a voice that took on a sudden cutting edge, he cried, "Now, then, you bully, take your hands off that boy!"
Herrick, with a sneer, said, "Are n't we the hero!" and dropped his hands.
"Give him back his pin!" ordered Rupert.
Putting his hand into his pocket, Herrick slowly drew out the pin. And then, instead of passing it over to Stoddard, he flung it the length of the corridor. Rupert sprang upon him, and pinioning his arms, ground him
