He did just what a fellow like him
feels bound to do, and what I knew he'd do. He hailed me. I
acted as though I wanted to get away, then allowed myself to be
overhauled. I was reported, of course, and made to pay the penalty.
But I was able to make the other fellows in the class believe
that Prescott had trailed me, on purpose to rub it into me. That
looked like over zeal, backed by a grudge, and the first class
swallowed it in fine shape. They gave him the silence, but had
not made it permanent Coventry. Then he caught another man, named
Durville, for going off the post in 'cit.' clothes, and that settled
the case against that fellow Prescott. But it was my trick that
made all the rest possible."
"I don't see that that was anything very clever," rejoined Henckley.
"I told you, didn't I," argued Jordan, "that it was as much luck
as cleverness."
"What part of it was clever, anyway?" jeered Henckley.
"Why, putting the whole game through, and making the class take
it up, yet doing it all so that the trick could never be traced
back to me," replied Jordan.
In the shadow, Durville turned briskly, gripping Dick's hand with
his own.
Douglass saw. After a bare instant's hesitation the class president
also took Prescott's hand, giving it a mighty squeeze.
In the joy of that friendly grasp from his own classmen, Dick
Prescott almost felt that all the bitterness of the last few months
had been wiped out in a second.
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