o these Joel was
introduced and was welcomed by them with much cordiality and examined
with some curiosity. He had accomplished the defeat of their Eleven, and
they would know what sort of youth he was.

While they were talking, leaning against the railing of the bridge, Joel
suddenly caught West's arm and drew his attention to a boy some distance
away who was looking toward the starting point through a pair of field
glasses. West indulged in a long whistle, plainly indicative of
amazement.

"Who's that fellow over there?" he asked. One of the St. Eustace boys
followed the direction of his gaze.

"Well, you ought to know him. He knows you. That's Bartlett Cloud. He
was at Hillton last term, and left because he was put off the Eleven; or
so he says."

"Humph!" ejaculated Outfield West. "He left to keep from being
expelled, he did. He left because he was mixed up in some mighty dirty
work, and knew that, even if they let him stay in school, no decent
fellow would associate with him. And you can tell him from me that if he
says I know him he's a liar. I don't know him from--from mud! I should
think you'd be proud of him at Eustace."

"We didn't know that," answered the St. Eustace boy in perplexity. "We
thought--"

"What?" demanded West as the other paused.

"Well, he said that the coach was down on him, and gave his place to
your friend here, and--"

"No," answered Joel quietly. "I didn't take his place. He tried to
strike me one day at practice, and Remsen, our coach, put him off. That
was all. Afterward he--he--But it isn't worth talking about."

"But I didn't know that St. Eustace made a practice of taking in
cast-off scamps from other schools," said West. The other lad flushed as
he answered apologetically:

"We didn't know, West. He said he was a friend of yours and so--But the
other fellows shall know about him." Then there was a stir on the bridge
and a voice cried, "There they go to the float!"

Up the stream at the starting point two shells were seen leisurely
paddling toward a float anchored a few yards off the right bank. The
colors were easily distinguishable, and especially did the crimson of
Hillton show up to the eager watchers on the bridge. Every eye was
turned toward the two boats, and a silence held the throng, a silence
which lasted until sixteen oar-blades caught the water almost together,
and the two boats began to leave the float behind. Then cries of
"They're off!" were raised, and t