ose and showed the most courteous interest in
making the little, old dog's acquaintance. Dan had a great deal of
manner, and it became plain that Duke was impressed favourably in spite
of former prejudice, so that presently the two trotted amicably back to
their masters and sat down with the harmonious but indifferent air of
having known each other intimately for years.

They were received without comment, though both boys looked at them
reflectively for a time. It was Penrod who spoke first.

"What number you go to?" (In an "oral lesson in English," Penrod had
been instructed to put this question in another form: "May I ask which
of our public schools you attend?")

"Me? What number do I go to?" said the stranger, contemptuously. "I
don't go to NO number in vacation!"

"I mean when it ain't."

"Third," returned the fat-faced boy. "I got 'em ALL scared in THAT
school."

"What of?" innocently asked Penrod, to whom "the Third"--in a distant
part of town--was undiscovered country.

"What of? I guess you'd soon see what of, if you ever was in that school
about one day. You'd be lucky if you got out alive!"

"Are the teachers mean?"

The other boy frowned with bitter scorn. "Teachers! Teachers don't order
ME around, I can tell you! They're mighty careful how they try to run
over Rupe Collins."

"Who's Rupe Collins?"

"Who is he?" echoed the fat-faced boy incredulously. "Say, ain't you got
ANY sense?"

"What?"

"Say, wouldn't you be just as happy if you had SOME sense?"

"Ye-es." Penrod's answer, like the look he lifted to the impressive
stranger, was meek and placative. "Rupe Collins is the principal at your
school, guess."

The other yelled with jeering laughter, and mocked Penrod's manner and
voice. "'Rupe Collins is the principal at your school, I guess!'" He
laughed harshly again, then suddenly showed truculence. "Say, 'bo,
whyn't you learn enough to go in the house when it rains? What's the
matter of you, anyhow?"

"Well," urged Penrod timidly, "nobody ever TOLD me who Rupe Collins is:
I got a RIGHT to think he's the principal, haven't I?"

The fat-faced boy shook his head disgustedly. "Honest, you make me
sick!"

Penrod's expression became one of despair. "Well, who IS he?" he cried.

"'Who IS he?'" mocked the other, with a scorn that withered. "'Who IS
he?' ME!"

"Oh!" Penrod was humiliated but relieved: he felt that he had proved
himself criminally ignorant, yet a peril seemed to have pass