w how it'll break up the nine?"

Butcher laughed loudly.

"He doesn't _ap_-preciate that, youngster."

"No," said the Big Man, reflectively. "They never do, do they?"

The luncheon bell rang, and they hurried down. The Big Man was
overwhelmed by the discovery. If Butcher didn't cover first, how could
they ever beat Andover and the Princeton freshmen? Even Hill School and
Pennington might trounce them. He fell into a brown melancholy, until
suddenly he caught the sympathetic glance of Mrs. Rogers on him, and for
fear that she would think it was due to his own weakness, he began to
chat volubly.

He had always been a little in awe of the Butcher. Not that the Butcher
had not been friendly; but he was so blunt and rough and unbending that
he rather repelled intimacy. He watched him covertly, admiring the
bravado with which he pretended unconcern. It must be awful to be
threatened with expulsion and actually to be expelled, to have your
whole life ruined, once and forever. The Big Man's heart was stirred. He
said to himself that he had not been sympathetic enough, and he resolved
to repair the error. So, luncheon over, he said with an appearance of
carelessness:

"I say, old man, come on over to the jigger-shop. I'll set 'em up. I'm
pretty flush, you know."

The Butcher looked down at the funny face and saw the kindly motive
under the exaggerated bluffness. Being touched by it, he said gruffly:

"Well; come on, then, you old billionaire!"

The Big Man felt a great movement of sympathy in him for his big
comrade. He would have liked to slip his little fist in the great brown
hand and say something appropriate, only he could think of nothing
appropriate. Then he remembered that among men there should be no
letting down, no sentimentality. So he lounged along, squinting up at
the Butcher and trying to copy his rolling gait.

At the jigger-shop, Al lifted his eyebrows in well-informed disapproval,
saying curtly:

"What are you doing here, you Butcher, you?"

"Building up my constitution," said Stevens, with a frown. "I'm staying
because I like it, of course. Lawrenceville is just lovely at Easter:
spring birds and violets, and that sort of thing."

"You're a nice one," said Al, a baseball enthusiast. "Why couldn't you
behave until after the Andover game?"

"Of course; but you needn't rub it in," replied the Butcher, staring at
the floor. "Give me a double strawberry, and heave it over."

Al, seeing him not in