"You're wrong there, Buttons. I'm pretty sure they both like him. Anyhow, the others all do—and you know how a girl can twist a fellow round. Well, my idea is to have Sallie, Grace and Dorothy talk with the others and get them to put it to their brothers and friends not to twit Fred about his father."
"They'd never agree," declared Buttons. "Too many of the boys are jealous of Cotton-Top, to be friends with him."
"But, I didn't say anything about being friends," rejoined the leader of the Firsts. "I just said we could get them to agree, not to taunt Fred about his father—they can keep on hating him or disliking him, as much as they please. If the girls go about it right, I believe they can put it through."
"Maybe you're right. Anyway, it's worth trying. I'll put it up to Grace. But why not have Margie?"
"Because, she would queer the whole scheme. We've got to work this thing carefully. The good of the school, or some dodge like that. Make 'em think it will hurt Fred's football playing for instance—when he's needed to trim the Landon Seconds. Everybody knows how Margie feels toward Cotton-Top, so if she tried to talk that way, the others might suspect her motives."
"Guess you're right. Anyhow, I'll tell Grace."
"Good. I'll see Sallie and Dorothy. We must get them started to-morrow."
As they concluded this agreement, the loyal friends of the fair-haired boy reached their homes—which were side by side—and, after repeating their promise to help their friend, entered their respective houses.
In the meantime, the object of their solicitude was talking with his mother.
His return had surprised the good woman, who, knowing the distance Margie lived from the village centre, had not expected Fred for at least half an hour.