They were bent upon a rescue, not upon the taking of prisoners.  Then, just as they were approaching the edge of the woods, they heard a cry that made their weary blood gallop.  It was the “L`"iy-krim!  L`"iy-krim!” of Tug making his last charge on the flock of Crows.

In a moment they had reached the mass of humanity that was writhing over him, and they began to tear them off and fling them back upon the ground with fierce rudeness.  Man after man they peeled off and flung back till they got down to one fellow with his knee on somebody’s nose.

That nose was Tug’s, and they soon had the boy on his feet, and turned to continue the argument with the Crows.  But there were no Crows to argue with.  The Dozen had made up in impetus and vim what it lacked in numbers, and the Crows had fled as if from an army.  A few black ghosts flying for their lives were all they could see of the band that had been so courageous with only History and Tug to take care of.

So the ten from Lakerim gathered together, and while B.J. beat time they spent what little breath was left in them on the club yell.  It sounded more like a chorus of bullfrogs than of young men, but it was gladsome enough to atone for its lack of music, and it was loud enough to convince History that it was safe to come out, of the bushes where he had been crouching in ghostly terror.

The Lakerimmers were inclined to laugh at History for his fears, but Tug told them that if it had not been for his seizing the red-hot pokers there would have been a different story to tell; so they hugged him instead of laughing at him, and Sawed-Off clapped him on the back such a vigorous thump that History thought the hazers had hold of him again.

Now they took up their way back to the Academy, and B.J. began to plot a dire revenge on the cowardly Crows.  But Tug said: 

“I move we let the matter drop.  They’re the ones to talk now of getting even, for they have certainly had the worst of it.  It’ll be just as well to keep a sharp eye on them, though, and it is very important for us to stand together.”

When they had reached the dormitory they all joined in straightening up and rearranging Tug’s room before they went to their well-earned sleep.

* * * * *

I am afraid the Lakerim eleven had the bad taste to do a little gloating over the Crows.  Their wit was not always of the finest, but they enjoyed it themselves, though little the Crows liked it, and it kept them all unusually happy for many days—­

All except Reddy.  He showed a strange inclination to “mulp”—­a portmanteau word that Jumbo coined out of “mope” and “sulk.”

VIII

To see the hilarious Reddy mulping was very odd.  About the only subject in or out of books that seemed to interest him in the slightest degree was the mention of the name of his twin brother, Heady; and that, too, in spite of the fact that the two of them had quarreled and bickered so much that their despairing parents had finally sent them to different schools.  But now Reddy seemed to be inconsolable, grieving for the other half of his twin heart.