ile. "I can easily understand what they're sore about. I'd
feel angry myself if I had been left off the team."

"Why do fellows like that need an education?" demanded Dodge,
in a slightly louder tone, as the pair came closer.

Still Dick Prescott paid no heed. He started up the steps, fumbling
for his latch key as he went.

"You faker! You mucker!" hissed Bayliss, now speaking directly
to the young left end.

This was so palpable that Dick could not well ignore it. Dropping
the key back into his pocket, he turned to stare at the two
"sorehead" chums.

"Eh?" he asked, with a quiet laugh.

"Yes; I meant you!" hissed Bayliss.

"Oh, well," grinned Dick, "your opinions have never counted for
much in the community, have they?"

"Shut up, you ignorant hound!" warned Bayliss belligerently.

"Too bad," retorted Dick tantalizingly. "Of course, I understand
what ails you. You were left off the High School team, and I
was not. But that is your own fault, Bayliss. You could have
made the team if you hadn't been foolish."

"Don't insult me with your opinions fellow!" cried Bayliss, growing
angrier every instant. At least, he appeared to be working him
self up into a rage.

"Oh, I don't care anything about your opinions, and I have no
anxiety to spring mine on you," retorted Dick, in an indifferent
voice. Once more he fumbled for his latch key.

"You haven't any business talking with gentlemen, anyway," sneered
Bert Dodge.

Dick flushed slightly, though he replied, coolly:

"As it happens, just at present I am not!"

"What do you mean by that?" flared Bert.

"Oh, you know, you don't care anything about my opinions," laughed
Dick. "Let us drop the whole subject. I don't care particularly,
anyway, about being seen talking with you two."

"Oh, you don't?" cried Bayliss, in a voice hoarse with rage.

In almost the same breath Bert Dodge hurled an insult so pointed
and so offensive that Dick's ruddy cheek went white for an instant.

Back into his pocket he dropped the latch key, then stepped swiftly
down before his tormentor.

"Dodge," he cried warningly, "take back the remark you just made.
Then, after that, you can take your offensive presence out of my
sight!"

"I'll take nothing back!" sneered the other boy.

"Then you'll take this!" retorted Dick, very quietly, in a cold,
low voice.

Prescott's fist flew out. It was not a hard blow, but it landed
on the tip of Bert Dodge's nose.

"You c