No one had any reply to make.  “Well,” continued the instructor in his careful way, “why don’t you—­er—­say something?  Who began this and what was it about?”

“Durkin shied a stone at us as we were going down the hill,” said Dreer, “and when we told him to stop it he—­he wanted to fight.”

“That was the way of it, Beaufort?”

“Aw, find out,” growled Beaufort.  “I don’t have to account to you for what I do.”

“Keep a civil tongue, Beaufort,” counselled Mr. Conklin, “or it may prove bad for you, my boy.”

“You’ve been told before that you must keep off school property,” said Mr. Daley, otherwise known as “Horace.”

“I’m not on school property,” replied Beaufort defiantly.

“You’re not now, but you have been or you wouldn’t be here.  After this kindly remain away from the school entirely.  We’ve had trouble with you before.”

“Sure and you’ll have more if you get gay,” answered the other with a grin.  “When anyone throws stones at my head he gets licked for it.”

“Did you do that, Durkin?”

“No, sir,” replied Penny quietly.  “Thayer and I were lying under the rock here when those fellows came up the hill.  They saw us and went on up.  Then, pretty soon, they came down again and Beaufort pretended I’d thrown a stone at him and came over here and insisted on a scrap.”

“Pretended you threw it?  What for?”

“Oh, it’s some of Dreer’s funny work,” replied Penny.  “He had it in for me because—­for something that happened a while back, and he got Beaufort to pick a quarrel with me.”

“What was the something that happened, Durkin?”

“I’d rather not say, Mr. Daley.  It—­it had nothing to do with this.”

“What do you say, Thayer?”

“Penny’s told it just the way it happened, sir.  Beaufort wanted to fight and Penny wouldn’t until Beaufort made him.  There wasn’t any stone thrown, Mr. Daley.”

Mr. Daley looked puzzled.  “Well,” he said, “you’d better all return to hall for the rest of the day.  You’ll—­er—­you’ll probably hear from this later.”  Beaufort took his departure non-chalantly, whistling as he made his way through the woods.  Dreer stood not on the order of his going, but was over the wall almost before the instructor had finished speaking.  Penny and Clint followed more leisurely, leaving Mr. Daley and Mr. Conklin in possession of the field of battle.  They too, however, presently continued their interrupted walk.

“What do you make of it, Jim?” asked Mr. Daley.  Mr. Conklin smiled and shook his head.

“Oh, I fancy Durkin told it straight.  It’s some private feud we happened on.  Too bad we didn’t follow our first intention and go toward the village.”

Mr. Daley looked doubtful.  “I’m sorry about Durkin,” he said regretfully.  “Mr. Fernald has been trying to secure a scholarship for him at one of the colleges, and this—­er—­affair will, I fear, displease him.”