"Will you shake hands?" asked Dick, advancing toward his antagonist.
"No!" exclaimed Dutton, surlily.
A hot flush came to Dick's face, and he was about to turn away when, the older cadet, who had complimented him said:
"Shake hands, Dutton. Don't be a cad."
This was equivalent to a command, and Dutton grudingly complied.
"Do you think he will be better friends with you after this?" asked Paul, as he and Dick walked away together.
Dick was right. Though he had gained the victory he had whipped one of the most popular cadets, which Dutton was, in spite of his caddishness.
Our hero's victory took nothing away from the regard in which Dutton was held, while, as for Dick, save a few friends whom he had made among the younger lads, he was not admitted to the comradeship of the older cadets, to which place, of right, he belonged. The fight had not made him popular, as he had hoped it would, after he had won it, though the sporting element in the academy could not but admire his fistic abilities.
"I don't seem to be making much progress," remarked Dick to his roommate, one afternoon. "You have more friends than I have."