"You are mistaken. He has a sister to support, and his salary is very
small."

"I can believe that. Old Sock is mean with his teachers. How much does
he pay Crabb?"

"It is very little, but I don't know that I ought to tell."

"I say, though, Roscoe, I wouldn't go to walk with him again."

"Why not?"

"The boys will say that, you are trying to get into his good graces, so
he'll let you off easy in your lessons."

"I don't want him to let me off easy; I generally intend to be
prepared."

"I know, but that's what they will say."

"Let them say what they please, and I will do what I please," said
Hector, independently.

"Old Sock ain't any too fond of Crabb since he took your part the other
day. Jim says the old man means to bounce him before long."

"I suppose that means discharge him."

"It means giving him his walking papers. Jim will see that he does it,
too."

Hector did not reply, but he felt more than ever glad that he had
written a letter which might possibly bring the poor usher more
profitable and, at the same time, agreeable employment.

"Jim doesn't like you, either," added Bates.

"I never supposed he did. I can do without his favor."

"He will get you into a scrape if he can."

"I have no doubt whatever of his benevolent intentions toward me. I
shall not let it interfere with my happiness."

Just then a sharp cry was heard, as of a boy in pain. It came from the
school yard, which the two boys were approaching on their return from a
walk.

"What's that?" asked Hector, quickly.

"I expect it's the new boy."

One had arrived the day before.

"Is he hurt, I wonder?" asked Hector, quickening his steps.

"Jim's got hold of him, probably," said Bates; "he said this morning
he was going to give the little chap a lesson to break him into school
ways."

"He did, did he?" said Hector, compressing his lips. "I shall have
something to say to that," and he quickened his steps.

CHAPTER XVI. TOSSED IN A BLANKET.

The last new boy was a little fellow only eleven years old. His name was
Tommy Cooper, as he was called at home. It was his first absence from
the sheltering care of his mother, and he felt lonesome in the great,
dreary school building, where he was called "Cooper," and "you little
chap." He missed the atmosphere of home, and the tenderness of his
mother and sister. In fact, the poor boy was suffering from that most
distressing malady, homesickness.

Had Mrs. Socrates