As he approached the door, his heart seemed almost to cease to beat. Some one was coming. He could hear the footsteps as they came nearer the door. The frightened boy looked quickly about him for a place of concealment, but none could be found. In a moment the door was opened and Tim himself was standing before him with a look of mingled anger and astonishment plainly expressed upon his face.
CHAPTER XII
MR. CRANE'S WORDS
"What are you doing here?" said Tim angrily, as soon as he recovered from his surprise.
"I came over to stack your room."
"You did? You did?" said Tim, as if he could hardly believe what he had heard.
His astonishment arose not from the fact that Ward should have come for the purpose which he so calmly expressed, but from the fact that he should have stated it so boldly. The one part Tim could readily understand, but the other was something he could not comprehend. To him there was but one explanation, and that was that Ward was somehow openly defying him, and Tim's anger was correspondingly increased.
With all his faults Tim Pickard was no coward, as the word is ordinarily used. That is, he had no fears of a physical contest, and as he stood in the doorway before him Ward readily perceived what a fine specimen of young manhood in its bodily form Tim was. Tall, with broad shoulders and with the fire and force of vigorous health manifest in every phase of his bearing, he would not be an antagonist whom most boys would care to meet.
Ward himself was no weakling. Though he was not so large as Tim, his compact and well-knit frame betokened physical powers of no mean order. And his quiet bearing served to increase the impression of his fearlessness too, and for a moment the two seniors stood quietly facing each other, each being conscious of the fact that a contest between them would be no light affair.
"Well, why don't you stack it then?" said Tim at last with a sneer. "Here's the room and you've got my full consent to go ahead--if you can."