Professor Clatter, with a look of wonder on his face was staring at the three Smith boys.
“No rough house here,” said Cap determinedly, noting with relief that nearly every one in the crowd was a Freshman. Had they been Sophomores, Juniors or Seniors he would hardly have dared take the stand he did.
“No rough house? Why not?” demanded the rich lad. “Why can’t we have some fun with this fellow?”
“Because,” went on Cap resolutely, and no one knew what an effort it was to make the announcement in an exclusive crowd of students, “this man is a friend of my brothers and myself. If you’re going to make trouble for him, you’ve got to reckon on us,” and Cap standing there, with his brothers beside him, looked sturdy enough to put up a pretty good argument.
“Your friend?” sneered Bondy.
“Our friend,” repeated Cap calmly. “So you’ll please pass him up, as a matter of class courtesy.”
It was an appeal that could not well be denied.
“Listen to Professor Clatter’s friend!” cried several of Bondy’s cronies.
“Proud to acknowledge it,” put in Bill in drawling tones, “and so would you, if you knew the story.”
Professor Clatter was still staring at the three lads on the steps of his wagon.