immie, be lifted him from the floor and
tried to pull out his hand. But Jimmie kept his arms folded tight across
his breast, roaring vigorously the while, and saying over and over, "Go
away from me! Go away from me, I tell you! I'm not taking anything to do
with you."

The big boys were enjoying the thing immensely. The master's rage was
deepening in proportion. He felt it would never do to be beaten. His
whole authority was at stake.

"Now, James," he reasoned, "you see you are only making it worse for
yourself. I cannot allow any disobedience in the school. You must hold
out your hand."

But Jimmie, realizing that he had come off best in the first round,
stood doggedly sniffing, his arms still folded tight.

"Now, James, I shall give you one more chance. Hold out your hand."

Jimmie remained like a statue.

Whack! came the heavy strap over his shoulders. At once Jimmie set up
his refrain, "Go away from me, I tell you! I'm not taking anything to do
with you!"

Whack! whack! whack! fell the strap with successive blows, each heavier
than the last. There was no longer any laughing in the school. The
affair was growing serious. The girls were beginning to sob, and the
bigger boys to grow pale.

"Now, James, will you hold out your hand? You see how much worse you are
making it for yourself," said the master, who was heartily sick of the
struggle, which he felt to be undignified, and the result of which he
feared was dubious.

But Jimmie only kept up his cry, now punctuated with sobs,
"I'm--not--taking--anything--to do--with--you."

"Jimmie, listen to me," said the master. "You must hold out your hand. I
cannot have boys refusing to obey me in this school." But Jimmie caught
the entreaty in the tone, and knowing that the battle was nearly over,
kept obstinately silent.

"Well, then," said the master, suddenly, "you must take it," and lifting
the strap, he laid it with such sharp emphasis over Jimmie's shoulders
that Jimmie's voice rose in a wilder roar than usual, and the girls
burst into audible weeping.

Suddenly, above all the hubbub, rose a voice, clear and sharp.

"Stop!" It was Thomas Finch, of all people, standing with face white and
tense, and regarding the master with steady eyes.

The school gazed thunderstruck at the usually slow and stolid Thomas.

"What do you mean, sir?" said the master, gladly turning from Jimmie.
But Thomas stood silent, as much surprised as the master at his sudden
exclam