Ben Buffum was biding¹ his time.
In the seat in front of Ben sat Albert Frost, a much smaller boy.
One day, toward the close of the afternoon, a loud shriek² was heard in the neighborhood of Ben Buffum's desk.
Walter looked up and saw Albert in tears.
“What is the matter, Albert?” asked Walter.
“Ben Buffum stuck a pin in my leg,” answered the boy. “Is that true, Buffum?” demanded Walter sternly.
“Yes, it is,” answered Ben, with provoking calmness.
Walter's temper was stirred, but he asked in his ordinary tones: “Why did you do it?”
“Because I chose,” answered Ben.
“Then,” said Walter, giving full vent³ to his scorn, “you are a contemptible⁴ coward and brute⁵!
“You forget that in this schoolroom I am the master, and consider it my duty to defend my pupils, even the smallest, from the violence of brutes⁶.”
“He'll have to pay for this,” he muttered to himself. “I can lick you, Walter!” he said, with an insolent⁷ leer.
He had hardly got the words out of his mouth when Walter was upon him. He was wonderfully quick in his movements, whereas Ben, though powerful, was slow, and before he well knew what was going to happen he was dragged by the collar from his seat into the middle of the floor. Walter let go for a minute, and Ben, mad all over, prepared to grasp him in a bearlike hug. A stinging blow in the face convinced him that he had entirely⁸ underrated the powers of the teacher. He tried to return the blow, but, unable to defend himself, found his own blow parried and another planted in his chest, causing him to stagger. Then Ben lost all caution, and with a furious cry rushed upon Walter, in hope of throwing him down by wrestling. But, instead, he found himself lying on his back on the floor, looking up at the teacher.

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