“The janitor is not appointed by the trustees. Dr. Euclid always appoints the janitor.”
This was news to Herbert. He had rather a vague idea of the powers of the trustees, and fancied that their authority extended to the appointment of so subordinate a person as the janitor.
“It doesn’t make any difference,” he declared, recovering himself. “The doctor will have to dismiss you, whether he wants to or not.”
“You speak very positively,” rejoined Andy, with a contemptuous smile, which Herbert resented.
“You’ll find it’s no laughing matter,” said Herbert, hotly. “For a poor boy, you put on altogether too many airs.”
Andy’s manner changed.
“Herbert Ross,” he said, “I’ve listened to your talk because it amused me, but I’ve heard enough of it. The only boy in school who puts on airs is yourself, and I, for one, don’t mean to stand your impudence. Your father may be a very important person, but you are not. All your talk about Dr. Euclid’s losing his place is ridiculous. You can go and talk to the doctor on the subject if you think it best.”
Here Andy turned on his heel, and called out to Frank Cooper:
“Have a catch, Frank?”
“Yes, Andy.”