“Go on and tell us, Max,” urged Louis, hooking his toes into the railing to balance himself, as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.
“What’s the use?” responded Max. “I may want to do it again some day, and I don’t want you all to get on to it; it’s my own invention.”
“Nonsense, Max; we won’t steal it, and we couldn’t do it, if we would; we’re all too good for that sort of thing,” put in Harry Arnold, from the step near by, where he sat leaning against the end of the rail.
“Much you are!” returned Max ironically. “Well, I’ll tell you; I just happened to step on his toe, that’s all.”
“Happened?” inquired Paul Lincoln, taking careful aim at a belated mosquito, as he spoke.
“Yes, happened,” repeated Max solemnly. “You see, when I study, I get so interested that I can’t keep on the lookout to see what my feet are doing. To-day they wouldn’t stay on the floor, but, first thing I knew, they were way up in the air. Of course I put them down again, as quick as I found it out, and Bony’s feet were right in the way. See? I begged his pardon, though. But the queerest thing about it all was that pretty soon I did that very same thing again. Strange how interested a fellow can get in his lessons, isn’t it?” And Max paused to look innocently around at the group.
“It was an untoward event, anyway,” remarked Paul.
The boys groaned at the pun.
“Oh, come, you fellows,” observed Harry; “I feel sort of sorry for Bony, once in a while. I hate him as badly as any of you; but we are leading him a dog’s life between us.”
The boys turned and looked at him in surprise. Harry Arnold was a lad whose opinion carried weight in the school, and a hush followed his clear voice. It was Jack who broke the momentary silence.