Jacob Ransom’s name came last on the list. A titter ran around the room when it was called. The tone of reply was louder than the rest and defiant of manner. Elizabeth looked around the room with frank inquiry and the titter died down. She let her gaze wander quietly and naturally down the aisle to the seat of the bully and was surprised to find that she liked the boy.
Closing the roll book and following an instinct rather than a formulated plan, Elizabeth walked slowly down the room to his desk. A faint giggle behind her spoke of the hushed expectations of trouble.
“If I hear any more laughing in this room, I shall inquire into the matter,” she said sternly, facing about beside Jake’s desk.
The instant response to that remark gave her confidence in her own powers. It was the first time she had ever used the tone of authority and she instinctively recognized that the quality of her personality in that position was good. Both she and Jake Ransom were on trial in that room.
“So you are the ‘Jake’ I have heard about?” she said, looking him frankly in the face and letting him see that she was measuring him openly. “Is your name Jake or Jacob?” she asked, as if it were an important matter to get settled.
“Don’t call me Jacob,” the boy snapped.
“I think I like the nickname better myself,” Elizabeth replied easily. Her good fairy beckoned her on. “These children are all laughing because they think we are going to pull each other’s hair presently. We will show them at least that we are a lady and a gentleman, I trust. Let me see your books.” She looked at him with such straightforward sincerity that the boy returned the look in the same spirit.
The books were produced in surprise; this was walking into the middle of the ring and bidding for an open fight, if fight they must. The boy loved a square deal. Jake Ransom’s sting had been drawn.
“You are in advance of the rest of the school. Are you preparing for the high school?” Elizabeth asked, emphasizing her surprise.
“Lord, no!” the boy blurted out.