“Oh, it’s perfectly safe,” insisted Shambler. “Come on! Be sports. Here, Gerhart—Langridge, help the girls on!”
“They don’t need any help!” suddenly exclaimed Tom, stepping between Shambler and Ruth.
“How do you know—are you their manager?” asked the new student with a sneer.
“No—but I’m her brother,” interposed Phil. “Come on, Ruth, we’ll walk part way with you.” He linked his arm in hers, Phil and his chums began dragging their bob away, followed by Madge Tyler, Mabel Harrison and Helen Newton.
“Humph!” sneered Shambler, audibly. “I guess we got in wrong with that bunch, fellows.”
“Forget it,” advised Langridge. “There are other girls on the hill, and it’s early yet.”
And that night, as the four chums tumbled into bed, though they did not speak of it, each one had an uneasy feeling about Shambler. It was as if a disrupting spirit had, somehow, crept into Randall.
If further evidence was needed of the pushing, and self-interested spirit of Shambler the four chums had it supplied to them a little later, at an informal dance to which they were bidden at Fairview.
Tom and Phil came in from a walk one afternoon, to find Sid and Frank eagerly waiting for them in the room. No sooner had the two entered, than Frank burst out with:
“Come on, fellows, open yours, and see if they are the same as ours.”