Socrates Smith looked up in genuine surprise. As a general thing, his nephew brought few complaints, for he took the responsibility of punishing boys he did not like himself.
“What! Roscoe?” inquired the principal.
“Yes.”
“Is he in any mischief?”
“Mischief? I should say so! Why, he’s a regular young Turk.”
“A young Turk? I don’t think I understand you, James.”
“I mean, he’s a young ruffian.”
“What has he been doing?” asked Socrates, in surprise.
“He pitched into me a short time ago,” said Jim, in some embarrassment.
“Pitched into you! You don’t mean to say that he attacked you?”