“Much good it'll do him,” said Dawkins, contemptuously.
“For all that, you will have to be careful; I can tell you that.”
“I'm not in the least afraid. I'm a little too firm in my position to be ousted by Young Stupid.”
“Just wait and see.”
Dawkins really entertained no apprehension. He had unbounded confidence in himself, and felt a sense of power in the rapidity with which he could master a lesson. He therefore did not study much, and though he could not but see that Paul was rapidly advancing, he rejected with scorn the idea that Young Stupid could displace him.
This, however, was the object at which Paul was aiming. He had not forgotten the nickname which Dawkins had given him, and this was the revenge which he sought,—a strictly honorable one.
At length the day of his triumph came. At the end of the month the master read off the class-list, and, much to his disgust, George Dawkins found himself playing second fiddle to Young Stupid.