“Of course it stopped when it hit the ground,” put in Billy. “What did you expect it to do—go right through to China?”
Pee Wee favored Billy with a glare that expressed his opinion of that lad’s frivolity.
“Of all the idiots—” he began, and then words failed him and he tapped his forehead significantly.
Nothing abashed, the graceless Billy grinned.
“It wasn’t so bad,” he said complacently. “I don’t know how those things come to me but they do—just like that,” he added snapping his fingers airily.
“He hates himself—I don’t think,” remarked Fred, making a playful pass at Billy, who dodged so adroitly that the blow passed over his head and caught the luckless Pee Wee in the stomach almost making him drop his watch again.
“Say, what are you up to?” he demanded indignantly, rubbing the injured spot with his hand. “Haven’t I had hard luck enough for one day without you fellows rubbing it in?”
“You seem to be doing all the rubbing,” laughed Fred. “Sorry, old boy, but that stomach of yours is so big that nothing can miss it.”
“Stop picking on poor little Pee Wee,” chuckled Sparrow. “Cheer up, Pee Wee. What if another Ingersoll did bite the dust? You’ll have a good excuse now for being late at recitations.”
This silver lining to the cloud was not without its effect on Pee Wee, and putting the battered watch into his pocket, successfully this time, he hurried to the dining hall, where the savory odors of the meal that the housekeeper had prepared soon made him forget all his troubles.