A pause.
"Which of you had the audacity to throw pieces of bread at me?"
Still silence.
"I warn you that I _will_ know, and it will be far worse for the guilty
if I do not know at once." There was unmistakeable decision in the tone.
"Very well. I know many boys who were _not_ guilty because I saw them
in parts of the room where to throw was impossible. I shall now _ask_
all the rest, one by one, if they took any part in this. And beware of
telling me a lie."
There was an uneasy sensation in the room, and several boys began to
whisper aloud, "Brigson! Brigson!" The whisper grew louder, and Mr. Rose
heard it. He turned on Brigson like a lion, and said--
"They call your name; stand out!"
The awkward, big, ungainly boy, with his repulsive countenance, shambled
out of his place into the middle of the room. Mr. Rose swept him with
one flashing glance. "_That_ is the boy," thought he to himself, "who
has been like an ulcer to this school. These boys shall have a good look
at their hero.
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