Joe surveyed them with disgust. In his present condition
he did not feel inclined to receive hero-worship. His head ached too
much, and he was troubled over his failure in the examinations; and
there were more to come in the afternoon.
He was angry with Fred and Charley. They were chattering like magpies
over the adventures of the night (in which, however, they did not fail
to give him chief credit), and they conducted themselves in quite a
patronizing fashion toward their awed and admiring schoolmates. But
every attempt to make Joe talk was a failure. He grunted and gave short
answers, and said "yes" and "no" to questions asked with the intention
of drawing him out.
He was longing to get away somewhere by himself, to throw himself down
some place on the green grass and forget his aches and pains and troubles.
He got up to go and find such a place, and found half a dozen of his
following tagging after him. He wanted to turn around and scream at them
to leave him alone, but his pride restrained him. A great wave of disgust
and despair swept over him, and then an idea flashed through his mind.
Since he was sure to flunk in his examinations, why endure the afternoon's
torture, which could not but be worse than the morning's? And on the
impulse of the moment he made up his mind.
He walked straight on to the schoolyard gate and passed out.
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