is to look in the Claflin catalogue. I've got one in my room
he can see any time he wants to."

"Sure, I know," said Amy soothingly. "I've told him you'd know all about
it." Amy turned to Clint impatiently. "Dreer went to Claflin--- how many
years was it? Two, Dreer?"

"Yes; that is, one and a half. I left in the Winter."

"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 bluster it out rather than run away. He
laughed, not very successfully. "Two against one, eh? Wait till fellows
hear abou