“Green,” replied Hamlin.
“How’d you find out?” asked Gordon.
“I was in Smith’s bird-store down the avenue yesterday. I’ve bought fancy pigeons of him several times, and he’s a friendly sort of chap, and as I happened to think of that snake, I asked him if he had sold one within a week or two. He said yes—he sold one to a sandy-haired fellow about my size—a fellow with an anchor on his left hand. Well, that fits Green to a T.”
“So it does. So he was at the bottom of that; and I know it was Coyle that mixed up all our overshoes yesterday, so it took us an age to sort ’em out. I don’t see the fun in such tricks, for my part,” said Raleigh.
“Well, say, boys—what are we going to do about it? If every L. A. O. in the class should get a hundred this quarter, it wouldn’t bring our class record up to a decent mark, so long as the Antis cut up as they do.”
“Does every fellow except us here belong to the Antis?” asked one.
“Yes, all except Clark,” said Gordon.
“I say it’s a shame that Clark’s name is not on our roll,” broke in Hamlin. “I believe he’s a splendid fellow, and I don’t think we do right to shut him out just because of what his father has done.”
A silence followed, while the boys looked at one another uneasily.
“It isn’t all—his father,” remarked one.