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Billy took the Indian turnip from his chum and with his knife scraped off a portion of white, pungent pulp. "Now then, put this on the back of your tongue, an' leave it there," he directed. "'Then,' sez he, 'wull yu do me the favor av deliverin' a missage to him an' kin ye go now?' says he. "May I have a word with you, sir?" he exclaimed in a coarse, hoarse, broken voice..
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Conrad
Mr. Johnston then briefly stated to his pupils that a mistake had been made. He did not say that he was sorry. That would have been an untruth. He did say that Billy deserved another whipping for lying, but under the circumstances he would excuse him, as he had already received unmerited punishment. "Wait," gulped Billy, but it was plain to be seen he was wavering. His feet were getting uneasy, his toes fairly biting holes through his socks in their eagerness to tear up the sward. But as leader it would never do for him to show the white feather. "Now let's get while the gettin's good," whispered Billy; and the three crept off into the shadows. "What?".
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