“It is my style,” he answered, firmly, looking James boldly in the face.
“I admire your taste, then,” returned James, with a smooth sneer.
“Then, you had better imitate it,” retorted Herbert.
“Thank you,” said James, in the same insulting tone. “Would you lend me your pants for a pattern? Excuse me, though; perhaps you have no other pair.”
“For shame, James!” exclaimed one or two boys who had listened to the colloquy, stirred to indignation by this heartless insult on the part of James Leech to a boy who was deservedly a favorite with them all.
Herbert's fist involuntarily doubled, and James, though he did not know it, ran a narrow chance of getting a good whipping. But our young hero controlled himself, not without some difficulty, and said: “I have one other pair, and these are at your service whenever you require them.”
Then turning to the other boys, he said, in a changed tone: “Who's in for a game of ball?”
“I,” said one, promptly.
“And I,” said another.
Herbert walked away, accompanied by the other boys, leaving James Leech alone.