“Here he comes now,” exclaimed Dick Henderson, a fair-haired, sunny-faced little fellow, whose mother would have been ashamed of him if she had known what sort of company he was keeping at the academy. “Say, you fellow, where are your manners?”
Only one short year ago Dick was a “Plebe” himself; but now he was a third class boy, and he was resolved that everybody should know it and treat him accordingly.
“Let him go, Dick,” said Tom Fisher, in a tone of disgust. “You would be highly honored by a salute from a bootblack, wouldn’t you, now?”
“Who are these?” said Clarence Duncan, in a low tone.
Tom and his crowd looked down the path and saw two other new-comers approaching. In appearance they were very unlike the shivering, half-frozen boy who had just gone along the path. They were warmly clad, wore sealskin caps and gloves, and there was something in their air and bearing that proclaimed them to be boys who respected themselves, and who intended that others should respect them. One of them was tall and broad-shouldered, and carried himself as though he had never been in the habit of submitting to any nonsense, and the other was small, slender, and apparently delicate.
“Why, they are the Planter and his brother,” said one of the students, all of whom had had opportunity to learn more or less of the history of the boys who composed the fourth class. “They’re from Mississippi. Their father is worth no end of money, and they say he gives his boys a very liberal allowance.”
“Then they’ll be good fellows to foot the bills at Cony Ryan’s, will they not?” said Fisher.
“They say that the little one is a saint,” chimed in Dick Henderson. “He never does anything wrong; but his brother must be a brick, for he was expelled from the last school he attended on account of some violation of the rules.”
“Then he’s the fellow for us,” said Tom Fisher. “We must make it a point to see him after taps.”
The near approach of the new-comers cut short the conversation. Tom and his crowd strolled leisurely on, filling up the path so completely that it was impossible for any one to pass them without stepping out into the deep snow that had been thrown up on each side. This the new scholars did not seem inclined to do. The smaller one came up behind Dick Henderson, and placing the back of his hand against his arm, said pleasantly: