Tom gave the right answer. Dutch gave a gasp of surprise, and it was noticed that he paid very close attention to the rest of the lesson. But it did not go much farther, for, as Dutch had predicted, the president soon got on a strain that interested him, and, ignoring the text book, which was opened at the wrong page, he swept into a talk on something about as far from physics as is bookkeeping.
But the “goose of Dutch had been done to a lovely brown,” once more quoting Holly Cross. His trick had turned against him, for, had he given the proper page, or had he allowed anyone else to do so, the chances are that he would not have been called on. He made himself conspicuous, and so fell before the good doctor.
“Well, Dutch,” remarked Holly, as they filed from the room, “don’t you want to try it on again in our Latin class?”
“Cut it out!” advised Dutch gruffly, as he marched on. “I know when I’ve had enough.”
[CHAPTER XXVII]
THE DANCE CARD
“You look all right, Sid; you’ll pass!”
“Hey! What’s that?” and Sid Henderson swung around from the mirror over his bureau, with a somewhat guilty flush on his face.
“I said you’d do,” repeated Tom, with a mischievous grin, as he stood in the doorway of the room, having paused in the act of entering. “What were you doing, putting on a beauty mark, or looking to see if you needed a shave?”