while the new boy was undressing.
"I want to see that knife-thing on your back that I heard the fellows talking about," said Snubby frankly. "Come over under the light so I can get a good look. That is queer – the hilt of the knife is curved a little just the same on both sides. It looks to me as if somebody had drawn it on your back – only the color doesn't look like a tattoo."
"Just a freak of nature," said Teeny-bits with a laugh. "I guess I was born with it."
Sudden popularity has been the downfall of many a schoolboy and many a man, but it did not seem to have any adverse effect on Teeny-bits Holbrook.
"It rolls off him like water off a roof!" exclaimed Fred Harper, who was one of the newcomer's greatest admirers. And so it seemed, for Teeny-bits went about his work methodically and seemed entirely unimpressed by the attentions of his numerous followers. He made time to do his studying and did it well, but he was not what his classmates called a "shark"; he had to work and work hard for what he got.
One morning during a class in English literature, Mr. Stevens asked Bassett to tell what he knew about the writings of Walter Pater.
"Well," said Bassett, putting on a look of extreme intelligence, "he wrote quite a while ago and he didn't succeed at first very much, but toward the end he was more successful."
"Is that all you can tell me?" asked Mr. Stevens.
"Oh, no!" said Bassett with the manner of one whose knowledge has been underrated. "He was quite a figure in his time and he wrote a lot of stuff – I think it was – poetry."
"That's enough, Bassett," said Mr. Stevens. "Holbrook, can you tell me anything about Walter Pater?"
"No, sir, I can't," said Teeny-bits.
"Thank you," said Mr. Stevens. "I'd rather have an honest answer than an attempt to bluff!"
Every one in the room looked at Bassett, who scowled back at the smiles of his classmates. "I didn't try to bluff, sir," he said to Mr. Stevens, but the English master paid no attention to the denial and every one knew that the self-styled "Whirlwind" had been guilty of treating the truth as if it had been a rubber band.
The incident was small, but it increased the enmity that Bassett had for Teeny-bits and added another score to those scores that he intended some day to wipe out.
There were others in Ridgley School who bore Teeny-bits no affection – one of them was Tracey Campbell, who had been the first to hail the newcomer by his nickname. Tracey Campbell was a candidate for the football team playing on the scrub; Coach Murray, it was said, looked with favor upon him and was about to promote him to the first eleven. But of late Mr. Murray had not paid so much attention to Campbell; his interest, as far as the scrub was concerned, seemed to be veering in another direction.
It may have been that Tracey Campbell had something in mind more than merely playing a prank when he took it upon himself on a Wednesday night to amuse some of the fellows who were lounging about the steps of the dormitories.
Old Daniel Holbrook had driven up from the station, sitting erect in the buggy behind Jed, the sorrel horse. His errand, as he had explained to Ma Holbrook, was to see how Teeny-bits was "getting along." He arrived at dusk and, after hitching the sorrel to a post outside Gannett Hall, mounted the two flights of steps to Number 34. He found Teeny-bits just beginning to study.
"Well, now, it does seem nice to see you," he said. "Your Ma and I've been kind o' lonesome, and she allowed as how I ought to pay you a mite of a call. I said as how she ought to come too, but I couldn't budge her. She said wimmen folks weren't wanted around boardin' schools."
"It's great to see you," said Teeny-bits. "The fellows here have been wonderful, but of course it isn't home, you know, and I've missed you folks a lot. I wish Ma had come; you tell her not to be so bashful next time."
Old Daniel Holbrook smiled benignly. It pleased him to have Teeny-bits so obviously glad to see him and so sincerely speaking of Ma and his wish to see her.
"I suppose wimmin folks are a trifle more timid than men folks about putting themselves forred," he remarked, "but when it comes to thoughtfulness you can't get 'em beat. Now take this box that she put into my hands – I don't know but what I'm entering into a conspiracy to break some of the rules of this school, but Ma just plain insisted that I bring it along and I have a faint suspicion that it contains somethin' to eat. I seen her fussin' round the kitchen with choc'late frosted cake and some other contraptions, and from the size of the package I'd say she'd put most of 'em in. The question is: am I breakin' any regalations if I leave it? Just say the word, and I'll take it back home."
"Not on your life!" said Teeny-bits fervently. "You're not breaking any rules, and believe me, whatever it is, it won't last very long. I've some friends around here who would climb right through the transom if they knew that there was anything like that in this room."
"That being the case," said the station master, "here she remains. I'll put it on the table. Now tell me, how's things going?"
"It's so much better than I thought it would be," said Teeny-bits, "that it hardly seems real. I want to tell you that there are some of the finest fellows in the world in this dormitory, and the whole school is just O. K."
While Daniel Holbrook, sitting back comfortably in Teeny-bits' spare chair, listened to the newcomer's impressions of Ridgley School, a bit of action was beginning to develop outside on the campus. Tracey Campbell, strolling across to Gannett Hall with Bassett and three or four other members of the school, who for one reason or another seemed to find pleasure in the company of the two, came in sight of the sorrel horse. There was no question that the station master's steed was ungainly and that harnessed to the old-fashioned buggy he presented to persons who were straining their eyes for the ludicrous a more or less amusing spectacle. The evening was warm and Tracey Campbell had pulled off his sweater. As he went by the sorrel horse he gave the garment a snap which sent one of the sleeves flying against the animal's neck. With a snort of surprise the horse lifted his head and danced backward a step or two in a manner that called forth laughter from the group of Ridgleyites.
"Whoa, Ebeneezer!" said Campbell. "Calm yourself," And then an idea came to his mind. "Here's a chance for a little moonlight ride," he said. "Who'll come along? We'll borrow this old nag for a few minutes and tour the campus."
Bassett, who was ready for any excitement that offered itself, climbed into the buggy after Campbell, while one of the other fellows untied the hitch-rope.
"All right, we're off," said Tracey, lifting the whip from the socket and snapping it vigorously.
Old Jed apparently wasn't accustomed to the sound or the feel of the whip, for when Campbell touched his flank smartly he plunged forward and began to trot around the driveway that circled the campus.
"Some racer!" said Bassett. "Can't you get any more speed out of him than that? I'll show you how to drive him."
"No, you won't," said Campbell. "I can get as much speed out of him as anybody can. I'll bet you that if you'll get out and run, I can beat you round the campus."
"How much'll you bet?" asked Bassett.
"Oh, I'll bet you a good dinner," said Tracey.
"All right," said Bassett, and jumped over the side of the buggy.
By this time several members of the school who were passing through the campus had paused and were watching the performance. Some one called out: "Ready, get set, go!" and Bassett, who had never been much of a runner,
