“Then pitch in and get acquainted, as I did when I first came here. You may be sure I’ll not introduce you,” said Egan, in a low voice, as he and his three friends walked toward the gate. “An introduction is an indorsement, and I don’t indorse any such fellows as you are.”
“What’s the matter with him?” asked Don, who had never seen Egan so annoyed and provoked as he was at that moment.
“Everything,” replied the ex-sergeant. “He’s the meanest boy I ever met—I except nobody—and if he doesn’t prove to be a second Clarence Duncan, I shall miss my guess.”
“The boy who came here with me will make a good mate for him,” said Don.
“This fellow’s father has only recently moved into our neighborhood,” continued Egan. “He went into ecstasies over my uniform the first time he saw it, and wanted to know where I got it, and how much it cost, and all that sort of thing. Of course I praised the school and everybody and everything connected with it; but I wish now that I had kept still. The next time that I met him he told me that when I returned to Bridgeport he was going with me. I was in hopes he wouldn’t stick, but he did.”
“Mr. Brigham crowded Lester upon Bert and me in about the same way,” said Don.
“Was that Lester Brigham?” exclaimed Curtis—“the boy who burned your old shooting-box and kicked up that rumpus while we were at Rochdale? We often heard you speak of him, but you know we never saw him.”
“He’s the very one,” replied Don.
“Then he will make a good mate for Enoch Williams,” said Egan. “Why, Don, this fellow has been caught in the act of looting ducks on the bay.”