Ford walked down the aisle with an examination paper in his hand, and as he passed Frank's desk his hand struck a little pile of blank papers that happened to be lying on the very edge, and knocked it to the floor.
He stooped quickly, saying: "Excuse me," in a low voice, and replaced the papers.
Prof. Babbitt, of course, was looking that way at the moment.
"You would do your work just as well, Merriwell," he exclaimed, sharply, "if you didn't spread it all over your desk. Your examples won't work out any easier for taking up the whole room with them."
Frank colored; it was unusual and extremely unpleasant to be rebuked in this way before the entire class. He had not realized that he had left his blank papers so carelessly but even at that, he knew that the rebuke was not deserved.
"The professor has just as good reason," he reflected angrily, "to scold Ford for being careless."
There was nothing to say about it, but it made Frank bitter, and all the more determined to make his paper so correct that the professor could not help giving it a perfect mark.
He pushed his loose papers together in a pile squarely in the middle of the desk and resumed his work.
No one heard what Ford asked the professor; it was some question concerning the paper, and when the professor answered it, it was in a tone of surprise.
"I should hardly think that the question was necessary," he said, "though of course I don't blame you for wanting to be careful about it."