Jack could not stand a taunt like this, but came forward into the cluster of half-frightened peace-breakers. Just then, the door of Mr. Higbie's house was opened, and some one came out. "It's Mr. Higbie," said Ben Berry. "He's going to shoot." "It's Bugbee, the watchman, going to arrest us," said Pewee. "It's Mr. Ball himself," said Riley, "and he'll whip us all." And he fled, followed pell-mell by the whole crowd, excepting Jack, who had a constitutional aversion to running away. He only slunk up close to the fence and so stood still. "Hello! Who are you?" The voice was not that of Mr. Higbie, nor that of the old master, nor of the watchman, Bugbee. With some difficulty, Jack recognized the figure of Doctor Lanham. "Oh, it's Jack Dudley, is it?" said the doctor, after examining him in the feeble moonlight. "Yes," said Jack, sheepishly. "You're the one that got that whipping from the old master. I don't wonder you came out to-night." "I do," said Jack, "and I would rather now that I had taken another such whipping than to find myself here." "Well, well," said the doctor, "boys will be boys." "And fools will be fools, I suppose," said Jack. "Mr. Ball is very ill," continued the doctor. "Find the others and tell them they mustn't come here again to-night, or they'll kill him. I wouldn't have had this happen for anything. The old man's just broken down by the strain he has been under. He has deserved it all, but I think you might let him have a little peace now." "So do I," said Jack, more ashamed of himself than ever. The doctor went back into the house, and Jack Dudley and his dinner-bell started off down the street in search of Harry Weathervane and his tin pan, and Bob Holliday and his skillet-lids, and Ben Berry and the bass-drum. "Hello, Jack!" called out Bob from an alley. "You stood your ground the best of all, didn't you?" "I wish I'd stood my ground in the first place against you and Harry, and stayed at home." "Why, what's the matter? Who was it?" By this time the other boys were creeping out of their hiding-places and gathering about Jack. "Well, it was the doctor," said Jack. "Mr. Ball's very sick and we've 'most killed him; that's all. We're a pack of cowards to go tooting at a poor old man when he's already down, and we ought to be kicked, every one of us. That's the way I feel about it," and Jack set out for home, not waiting for any leave-taking with the rest, who, for their part, slunk away in various directions, anxious to get their instruments of noise and torment hidden away out of sight. Jack stuck the dinner-bell under the hay in the stable-loft, whence he could smuggle it into the house before his mother should get down-stairs in the morning. Then he went into the house. "Where have you been?" asked Mrs. Dudley. "I came home early so that you needn't be lonesome." "Bob Holliday and Harry Weathervane came for me, and I found it so lonesome here that I went out with them." "Have you got your lessons?"