"You mean Aleck Sands?"
"I believe that is the young gentleman's name."
"He's not my friend, grandfather."
"Tut! Tut! You should not harbor resentment because of his having outwitted you in the matter of procuring the flag. Especially in view of his discomfiture of to-day."
"It wasn't my fault that he flunked."
"I am not charging you with that responsibility, sir. I am simply appealing to your generosity. By the way, I understand—I have learned this afternoon, that there exists what may be termed a feud between the boys of Chestnut Hill and those of Chestnut Valley. Have I been correctly informed?"
"Why, yes; I guess—I suppose you might call it that."
"And I have been informed also that you are the leader of what are facetiously termed the 'Hilltops,' and that our young friend, Master Sands, is the leader of what are termed, still more facetiously, the 'Riverbeds.' Is this true?"
Pen closed his book and hesitated. He felt that a reproof was coming, to be followed, perhaps, by strict orders concerning his own neutrality.
"Well," he stammered, "I—I guess that's about right. Anyway our fellows sort o' depend on me to help 'em hold their own."