“And I answer to the name of Jesse W. Smith!” piped up one of the smallest boys in the Academy.
There was a titter among the boys and Harry whispered to Arthur:
“Somebody has made a miscalculation here. I wonder who it is?”
“Smith is out of the question,” remarked the doctor. “You are not studying Greek or Latin, are you, Smith?”
“No, sir,” and the boys laughed again for Jesse W. Smith was not even in the Latin grammar as yet.
“Have any of the rest of you bearing the initials J. S. a translation in your desks?” the doctor asked. “I will take your word for it.”
“No, sir,” answered Sawyer and Sharpe.
“I have none, sir,” said Jack, “but if you wish to search my desk you are at perfect liberty to do so. In fact, I will search it myself.”
“That is not necessary, Sheldon,” replied the doctor quickly, but Jack was already hunting through his desk, taking out everything at hand in a rapid fashion.
“Of course it is not!” sputtered Harry. “No one accuses him of——”