Interference was now too late, had the Lower Form boy wished to finish his advice. For no sooner had the newcomer emerged from the ranks of the others standing at the foot of the steps than a girl, brunette, and very pretty, nudged her companion, who, though just as attractive, was of the blonde type, and giggled:
"Oh, Grace, look at that coming up the steps!"
This exclamation, being audible to the others, all the boys and girls turned their eyes in the direction of the new student, and watched his approach in a silence portentous in its intensity.
Even the newcomer felt its significance, and, as he reached the fourth step from the top, paused, hesitatingly.
Taking advantage of his evident embarrassment, the lad nicknamed Soda, making his voice very deep, demanded:
"What dost thou wish, Clothespin?"
The nickname was so appropriate that the boys and girls roared with laughter, adding still more to their victim's discomfiture.
Twice he cleared his throat, but the grinning faces of the boys and the mischievous eyes of the girls stifled his words and sent hot flushes to his cheeks.
"He's mine! I saw him first!" exclaimed another of the Second Formers, noting the newcomer's embarrassment. "Now, Clothespin, what is it you desire? Speak, or forever hold your tongue."
To the new student, the bantering seemed terribly real, and, after gulping several times, he stammered: