"Well, I won't stay shut up, that's certain," said Vernon, doggedly.
"As for the jingoes, let them rave!"
"That's easy to say," retorted Collins, with irony, "when some one else
has to bear the brunt of it."
Vernon snorted impatiently.
"You may frighten yourself whenever you please," he said, "but you can't
frighten me. I've heard the cry of 'Wolf! Wolf!' entirely too often."
"But the wolf came at last," Blake pointed out.
"Well, it isn't coming this time; and I don't care if it is. I repeat,
categorically and imperatively, _I won't stay shut up!"_
"You agreed to obey our instructions, you know."
"Every one has the right to rebel against a tyrant!"
"At least," said Collins, yielding the ground grudgingly, "you must
remember always to keep on your sick-togs when you do go out, and to try
to look a little less scandalously healthy than you are. Now, if you'd
kept on your wraps when you jumped out of the chair--"
"How was I to kick a dog with a rug around my legs? You fellows don't
give me credit for what I did do. I'd just got into a most interesting
conversation with those girls, when up came a fellow whom I knew
instinctively to be Markeld."
He stopped as he caught the others' astounded gaze.
"Yes, Markeld!" he repeated, defiantly. "I've an idea that he is the
owner of the dog.
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