Frank did not pass a very happy day. He mingled of necessity with the Banbury groups during the studies, but only for an occasional glowering look from Gill Mace's discolored eye and some suppressed sneers from Banbury, Durkin and others of their crowd, there was no allusion made to the cause of the fight.
However, there were mysterious whisperings going on at times. Some boys with whom Frank was not well acquainted shied off from him at noon time, and Frank knew that the poison of Mace's insinuations was working among the general school group.
Frank was in his room at four o'clock, and promptly at the hour Ned Foreman put in an appearance. Frank set aside his troubles and greeted him in a friendly manner. He locked the door and gave his visitor a comfortable chair.
"Tell me about yourself, Ned," he said. "How you got here from Tipton, and about your plans, and all that."
It was not much of a story, but its details showed again the homeless lad was set and sensible in his resolve to gain an education.
"I like you, Ned," said Frank, "and you know it, and I wouldn't be acting as a true friend if I didn't say just what was in my mind, would I, now?"
"You'll never say a thing to hurt a fellow's feelings, I'll risk that," returned Ned with a smile of confidence.
"I hope not. I've been thinking about you, and I'm interested in you. Say, is that your best suit of clothes you're wearing?"
"Best and only," acknowledged Ned bluntly. "Why?"
"Well, I've got a suit that will just about fit you, and I want you to sort of tog up when you have time to come out and join our crowd. Not that I would ever be ashamed of you no matter what you wore, but we all have a little pride."