“I know it,” sighed the boy, “and the worst of it is that I am such a weakling that I may never amount to anything in the world when I am through school.”
“Don’t worry over that, Ray. You are certainly stronger than you were a year or two ago, and maybe you won’t have any more sick spells to pull you down. I do hope not, any way,” and Edith laid her hand tenderly on his shoulder as he spoke.
He looked up at her gratefully, as he answered, “I wonder what I should do without you, Edith. You never let me get quite discouraged.”
“And never mean to,” she answered gaily, though her eyes filled with tears as she looked at the blue-veined temples, and the dark circles under the blue eyes so like her own.
CHAPTER II.
HAMLIN SPEAKS HIS MIND.
One boy had been absent from section D that day. This was David Hamlin, a big, handsome fellow, a general favorite, and the acknowledged leader of the better element in the class. He was at school early the next morning, and listened with the greatest interest to the story of the previous day’s happenings, which the boys were eager to tell.
“Well,” he said, looking from one to another when the story was ended, “where were all you decent fellows that you didn’t interfere? If I’d been here, I’d have stood up for Clark. Coward indeed! He showed pluck enough, I should say, in refusing to fight that bully Crawford.”
But at this, a murmur of dissent went around the group. It was plain that for once Hamlin was not to have the popular support even of all his friends.
“No, no, Hamlin,” said one, “you can’t make me believe that a fellow with the right sort of stuff in him would let anybody give him the lie direct and a blow in the face to boot, and not strike back. That’s not my idea of courage.”