“You won’t have many friends,” croaked Hull, with an expression of satisfaction.
“That’s tho!” cried Veazie.
“Just so, chummie!” agreed Lord.
“I know you are right about that. I’ll have to go it alone, unless I can convert Defarge, and I’m afraid he’s too far gone, poor devil! I think his selfishness and his hatred for Merriwell have brought about his ruin.”
“Merriwell has ruined him!” cried Ives savagely. “You would have said so a week ago! I don’t know what you’re going to try to do, but I don’t believe you’ll get taken into Merriwell’s flock.”
“I don’t expect to be; but I’ll take myself out of this flock, and that will give me a chance to regard myself as something more of a man. What are you, one and all? Chickering is a pitiful creature, with just enough brains to be a hypocrite. Hull never had a real thought in his wooden head in all his life. You, Ives, are a poor imitation of a real man, and, though you sometimes bluster and brag, you are always the first to dodge behind shelter when there is danger. Veazie is a poor, simple little thing, who never can become a man, and Lord is his counterpart.”
“Be careful, thir!” screamed Veazie, shaking his fist at Gene. “I won’t thand it, thir!”
“Poor Gene!” said Rupert, with increasing sadness. “After all I have done for him!”
“He’s an insulting scamp!” croaked Huff, his face very red.
“He’s a——” began Ives, but Skelding cut him short, advising: