Mr. Marsh studied Harry’s clear, honest face for an instant. Moved by a sudden impulse he reached forth his hand to Harry. “Thank you, my boy,” he said. “My shoulders are broad enough to bear just censure. Still I appreciate your kindly spirit. Let me tell you something, boys. Occasions often arise when it is only fair and right for a boy to shield himself, even at the expense of someone else, provided that someone else is to blame. But the boy who can fight his own battles without drawing others into them is worthy of praise. Just remember that. Here are your school slips. If you feel that you wish to consult me about your affairs, I am always ready to hear whatever you may wish to say to me, between five and half-past five o’clock every afternoon.”
“Thank you, sir.” This from both boys as they turned to go.
“Hm-m,” sniffed Teddy as they started away from Mr. Marsh’s desk. “He didn’t shake hands with me.”
“I was surprised,” admitted Harry.
“Te-he,” snickered Teddy. “I came pretty near calling that old principal ‘Dragoness’ right out. I’d’a said it, if you hadn’t begun to talk so quick.”
“Yes, I know it.” Harry could not repress a smile. “I don’t suppose it will do the least bit of good for me to tell you again not to give people funny names.”
“Huh!” exploded Teddy, again. “It don’t hurt ’em any. They can’t hear ’em.”
“You might forget yourself as you did to-day,” reminded Harry. “How would you like it if someone called you——” Harry eyed Teddy speculatively—“a red-head.”
“Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?” demanded Teddy. “I wouldn’t care what folks called me,” he added with a fine air of indifference, “if they didn’t call me too early in the morning.”