He stumbled off down the steps. They were making fun of him again! The boys would spread the story around—how he had tried to buy an honor emblem at the store—and soon the whole camp would be laughing at his latest fool stunt! No matter what he started to do at Lenape, it always turned out to be the wrong thing! Now McNulty would have more of his comments to make!
Dirk was feeling very sorry for himself. Tears of helpless rage welled into his eyes, and he did not see that someone was standing in front of him until he heard his name called in a mysterious whisper.
“Psst! Van Horn! Say, I want to see you a second!”
Dirk looked up. The speaker was a runty-looking boy with a large nose and close-set black eyes. He took Dirk’s arm with a familiar gesture, and patted him on the back.
“Say, I want to tell you. I heard about how you licked Red Ryan. Gee, that was swell! I wish I’d seen you do it!”
“How did you know about it?” asked Dirk.
“Why, everybody in camp knows about it! You’re a hero, that’s what you are! A real tough fighter, you must be! There are lots of guys in this camp that don’t like Ryan, and are glad he got it good at last! Say, we don’t want anybody to notice I’m talkin’ to you, see? Come on, duck in here and I’ll tell you somethin’ real important!”
“What do you want? Why can’t you tell me here?”
“It’s too secret, see? Quick—slide in here.”
Dirk, fearing some new pitfall, followed suspiciously; but the mysterious manner of the big-nosed little fellow impressed him in spite of himself, and he allowed himself to be drawn under the shadow of the overhanging porch of the lodge. Here several small rooms had been built—a dark-room for the convenience of the camp photographers, and a larger compartment in which were stored trunks, suitcases, old tents, and the like. Through the door of the latter room he followed his guide, who shut that door carefully and then sat on a pile of lumber.