"Of course. Well, don't you see, Clint, he'd ought to know what he's talking about?"

"Maybe he ought," replied Clint rudely, "but I don't believe he does. He says Claflin doesn't do that kind of thing. If it's such a fine school why didn't he stay there?"

"You bet it's a fine school!" returned Dreer heatedly. "It's the best there is!"

"Oh, piffle," sneered Clint. "Better than Brimfield, I suppose?"

"Better than--Say, you make me laugh! There isn't any comparison.

Claflin's got it all over this hole every way you look!" Dreer paused suddenly and cast a doubtful look at Amy. But for once Amy seemed unconcerned by such sentiment. His smile even seemed approving! Dreer warmed to his subject. "Of course, you fellows haven't been anywhere else and think Brimfield's quite a school. That's all right. But I happen to have gone to Claflin and I know the difference between a real school and a second-rate imitation like this! Brimfield's a regular hole, fellows, believe me! Gee, I must get on!"

"I wouldn't hurry," said Amy. Something in his tone caught Dreer's attention and he glanced around apprehensively to find Amy removing his coat.

"Wha--what do you mean, you wouldn't hurry?" he asked uneasily.

Amy hung his coat on a paling and placed his cap on top. Then he tugged his belt in another hole. And all the time he smiled quite pleasantly.

Dreer moved backward toward the curb, but found Clint barring his way.

His anxious gaze searched the road for help, but in each direction it was empty. He laughed nervously.

"What's the joke?" he asked.

"No joke at all, Dreer," replied Amy. "I gave you fair warning that the next time you ran down the school I'd beat you. If I were you, Dreer, I'd take off my coat."

"You dare touch me and it'll be mighty bad for you, Byrd! I'm not going to fight you, and you can't make me."

"Suit yourself about that," replied Amy, stepping toward him.

Dreer thought of flight, but it looked hopeless. Besides, a remnant of pride counselled him to bl.u.s.ter it out rather than run away. He laughed, not very successfully. "Two against one, eh? Wait till fellows hear about it! You won't dare show your faces, you two thugs!" Again his gaze travelled along the empty, sunlit road. "Anyway, I didn't say anything I didn't have a right to say. You asked me what I thought and I told you. You--you made me say it!"

"I did, Dreer!" Amy shook his head gently. "Think again. Surely, I didn't do that?"

"Well, he did," faltered Dreer. "And you put him up to it, I'll bet!

Don't you touch me, Byrd!"

"Put your hands up!"

"I won't! You're bullies! Two against one isn't fair!"

"Thayer won't touch you. I'll attend to you alone and unaided, Dreer.

Fair warning!"

"Keep away from me! You'd better! Don't you--"

Dreer picked himself up slowly from the sidewalk. There was a frightened look in his eyes.

"I don't see what you're doing this for," he half whimpered. "I haven't done anything to you."

"You spoke disrespectfully of the school, Dreer. I told you you mustn't.

I'm terribly fond of the dear old school and it hurts me to hear it maligned. And then there's Durkin's violin, Dreer. Perhaps you haven't heard about that."

A gleam of comprehension flashed in the boy's face and he backed up against the fence. "I don't know anything about any violin,"

he muttered.

"Of course you don't, Dreer," replied Amy cheerfully. "I'm just telling you about it. Someone went into his room day before yesterday and smashed it. Isn't that a shame? _You_ wouldn't do a thing like that, would you?"

"I didn't!" whined Dreer. "You haven't any right to blame me for it!"

"Who's blaming you for it? Perish the thought, Dreer! I'm just telling you about it."

"Then you let me go, Byrd! I didn't hurt his old fiddle!"

"Tut, tut! You mustn't think I'm knocking you around on account of that.

Oh dear, no! I wouldn't have any right to do that, Dreer. What I'm doing is punishing you for speaking disrespectfully of our dear old Alma Mater. Look out for your face, Dreer!"

Dreer put up a half-hearted defence then, and for a moment the two boys circled about on the dusty sidewalk, Dreer pale and plainly scared, Amy smiling and deliberate. Then came a feint at Dreer's body, a lowering of his guard and a quick out-thrust of Amy's left fist. The blow landed on Dreer's cheek and he went staggering backward against the palings. He was too frightened to cry out. With a hand pressed to his bleeding cheek, he stared dumbly at Amy, trembling and panting. Clint, who had watched proceedings from a few yards away, felt sorry for the boy.

"That's enough, Amy," he said. "He can't fight."

"Oh, yes, he can," returned Amy sternly. "He can fight when the other fellow's smaller than he is, can't you, Dreer? And he's a very skilful arm-twister, too. I haven't got him warmed up yet, that's all. We've only started, haven't we, Dreer?"

"You--you brute!" muttered Dreer. "What do you want me to do? I--I'll do anything you say, Byrd."

"Will you? Then come away from that fence so I can knock you over again, you sneak!"

"He's had enough, Amy," pleaded Clint.

"Enough? Oh, no, he hasn't! When he's had enough he's going to tell us who smashed Durkin's violin, aren't you, Dreer? And he's going to tell us that he's been awfully mistaken in his estimate of Brimfield Academy, too. Why, he's going to just love the dear old school before I get through with him, Clint!"

"I--I tell you I didn't touch his violin," cried Dreer with a brief flash of defiance.

"There! You see?" said Amy. "His memory is still weak, Clint. Come away from the fence, Dreer."

"I won't! Let me alone! You've struck me twice, Byrd. That--that ought to be enough." He ended with a sniffle.

"Sorry," said Amy, "but I've got to arouse that memory of yours. If you won't come away from there, why--"

"h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo!" said a voice. "What's the trouble, fellows?"

The three boys started. A few yards away, leaning on his cane, stood a tall man of twenty-three or four years, a mildly surprised expression on his good-looking face.

CHAPTER XVII

A STRANGER INTERRUPTS

He wore a grey flannel suit, a cap to match, and rubber-soled tan shoes.

It was doubtless the latter which accounted for his unsuspected appearance on the scene. His brown eyes travelled from one to another of the little group inquiringly.

"I hope I don't intrude," he observed politely.