“Why not, pray?”
“Because I tell you not to, that’s all!”
“Well, you’ve got to give me some better reason than that, Elmer Craven,” flashed the sorely troubled boy. “If Miss Darrow is willing that I should skate with her, I don’t see that it is your business or anyone else’s, as far as that is concerned.”
“You’ll find it is, though. I tell you, you’ve got to stop going with her! You remember the laboratory business? Well, it will be just as easy to put a stop to your going with Viola as it was to frame that up on you. So just take my advice and leave her alone!”
So vicious did the rich boy’s face become as he uttered his threat that Harry could scarcely believe he was talking with a fellow member of Rivertown High. For the moment, he thought of resenting the boy’s words with his fists; but the sound of footsteps and the voice of the principal, from behind, caused him to abandon the idea.
“Well, are you going to take my advice?” demanded his enemy, sullenly.
“I’m going to do just as I please, Elmer Craven. Neither you nor anyone else can stop me!” retorted Harry. And turning on his heel, he stalked away to his classroom.
But though he had maintained a defiant manner, at heart he was sick. Coming as it did on top of the news from his father, the thought that he would now be obliged to guard himself against underhand attacks from his rival, with whom he had held many angry words, made him deeply anxious, and again the idea which had come to him on the previous night when his aunt had made her announcement,—that he should leave school,—recurred to him.
A happy nod and smile from Viola, who chanced to be passing through the hall on her way to one of her recitations, however, decided the day for Harry.
“I’ll not let Elmer Craven make me give up my friendship for Viola!” he told himself. And with this resolve, he proceeded to his various duties.