“Oh, because—because—sneaking’s worse than anything.”
“My mother said I was to,” said Baltimore.
“And you mustn’t talk about your mother either,” said Jeremy, “nor any of your people at home.”
“Why mustn’t I?” asked Baltimore.
“Because they’ll rag you if you do.”
Baltimore nodded his head in a determined manner.
“I will if they kick me,” he said.
That evening was an unhappy one. Jeremy, kept by the matron over some silly business connected with his underclothes, came late into the dormitory to discover a naked Baltimore being beaten with hair-brushes. That was a difficult moment for him, but he dealt with it in the traditional manner of school heroes. He rushed into the midst of the gang, rescued Percy and challenged the room. He was popular and known for a determined fighter, so there was some laughter and jeering; but Baltimore was allowed to creep into his bed.
Next morning the school understood that young Stocky Cole had a new protégé and that it was that terrible new boy Pimply Percy. Jeremy’s best friend, Riley minor, spoke to him seriously about it.
“I say, Stocky, it isn’t true that you’ve taken up with that awful new kid?”