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“ Hush—just keep still, not a sound.”
Dead silence.
“Well, if you don’t come at once–––-”
The dean was furious; we could hear that in his
voice.
“ I’ve got to go,” said Peter, standing up.
“ I’ve got to—I’ve got to––” He scram-
bled out; the rest of us just stuck our heads up
to see what would happen.
There stood the dean with no hat, just in his
wig, and furiously angry. It was no fun to be
Peter now. He was everlastingly slow about
clambering down. The dean scolded up
to-wards our six heads, sticking out of the
dun-geon:
“ Yes, just try such a thing again—just try
it—vour backs shall suffer for it—big boys and
girls as you are—killing people with stones! ”
“ Yes, but we didn’t kill anybody,” ealled
Karsten.
I was perfectly appalled at Ivarsten’s daring
to call out such a thing to the dean, who,
how-ever, paid not the least attention; Peter had at
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