After an informal dinner and an evening of pleasant talk, the boys reluctantly rose, to say good night. Dr. Flemming rose, too, and, taking Leon’s hand in both his own firm, slender ones and looking down into the lad’s eyes so keenly that Leon felt he could see into the very depths of his soul, he said kindly,—
“Arnold, you are just starting out into a new life, and I say to you what I say to all the boys when they come here. You will miss your home in many ways; you will find many things here that are new and strange. Do the very best you can in everything, whether it is work or play. Be generous and manly and, above all else, be true, true to yourself and true to the hopes of your parents in sending you to us, and we shall all be satisfied. And one more word: at the first, when you choose your friends, remember that, in a school the size of this, there are all sorts of boys, and choose those that will be a help to you, instead of a pull-back. Boys can’t be too careful about their friends, for with them it is just as it is with anything else. If you handle something black, a little of the color is likely to rub off on you. Look for the best and truest boys and, for your share, try to be as good for them as they are for you. Then your life at Flemming will be a pleasant and a happy one. And now, good night.” And he dismissed them, with a friendly smile.
CHAPTER IV.
THE BONIFACE REBELLION.
The real work of the term began in earnest, the next morning, and Leon found himself in a class of fifteen or twenty boys, nearly all of them older than himself, and among whom he looked in vain for one of the lads that he had seen in Harry’s room. George Winslow’s scowling face was the only familiar one that met his eye, and Leon gladly turned away from him, to make a closer study of his new companions. At his right hand sat a boy of eleven, with an abnormally large head and a dry, weazened, lead-colored face, who appeared to feel it his duty to maintain the credit of the class by answering all the questions addressed to any of its members. At Leon’s other side was a boy of about his own age, whose mocking brown eyes were dancing with fun, as he watched Leon’s other neighbor; and he looked so bright and companionable that Leon ventured to whisper, under cover of suppressing a yawn,—
“Who’s the fellow next me?”
“I don’t know,” answered the other; “I’m new here. Don’t you know him?”
“No; I’m new, too. Isn’t he a terror?” responded Leon.
Both boys kept their eyes intently fixed on their books, for a few moments. Then Leon attempted another question.
“What’s your name?” he asked cautiously, with his gaze still on the page before him.