Big Jim's head went back. "Before the whole school?"
"Yes."
"If you think you can get away with anything like that on me, you're crazy."
"Then the sentence of the Northfield Congress," Praska said clearly, "is that you be dishonorably dismissed from the Safety Committee and that the verdict of the Congress be published in the next number of the Northfield Breeze."
The case was closed. Big Jim's eyes had to come away from the corner then, and as he swung around he faced his jury.
"I guess I can get along without the Safety Committee," he said. "I never thought much of that bunch, anyway. As for the Breeze, that's a laugh."
He swaggered oil; and out in the corridor the waiting students clustered about him to learn what had happened. By and by, when Praska and Perry came out, the crowd had dwindled to a handful. The two boys went upstairs to the editorial room of the Breeze, and were lucky enough to find Bristow reading a batch of poems that some ambitious student had dropped into the contribution box. Praska explained that the Congress wanted the verdict in the Fry case published in full.
