But in Percy's judgment the time was not even yet ripe for extreme measures.

The assailant might be given a little rope yet.
He took it, and worked himself into a childish passion against the refractory door, encouraged by the friendly gibes of the besieged.

"Go it!" "Two to one on his boots!" "Keep your temper!" "Come in!" "Stick to it!" "One more and you'll do it!" and so on.
It was hardly likely that the spectacle of the captain of the house in a towering rage, toying to kick his way into a fag's room, would long be allowed to continue unheeded by the rest of the inhabitants of Forder's, and in a very short time new voices without apprised the beleaguered garrison that the enemy was sitting down in force.
Brinkman's voice could be heard demanding admission, and presently Dangle's; while a _posse_ of mercenary middle-boys relieved Clapperton of the kicking.

The stout old door held out bravely and defied all their efforts.
Presently a pause was made, and Dangle's voice outside was heard demanding a parley.
"Young Wheatfield," he said, "it will be wiser for you to open the door at once.

If you don't it will be broken open, and you needn't expect to get off easy then.