He was angry too with my dear mother, because she believed us, and called Snuffy a bad man and a brute.

And he ordered the dog-cart to be brought round, and said that Martha was to give us some breakfast, and that we might be thankful to get that instead of a flogging, for that when _he_ ran away from school to escape a thrashing, his father gave him one thrashing while the dog-cart was being brought round, and drove him straight back to school, where the school-master gave him another.
"And a very good thing for me," said my father, buttoning his coat, whilst my mother and Martha went about crying, and Jem and I stood silent.

If we were to go back, the more we told, the worse would be Snuffy's revenge.

An unpleasant hardness was beginning to creep over me.
"The next time I run away," was my thought, "I shall not run home." But with this came a rush of regret for Jem's sake.

I knew that Crayshaw's, did more harm to him than to me, and almost involuntarily I put my arms round him, thinking that if they would only let him stay, I could go back and bear anything, like Lewis Lorraine.