Most of the boys looked at each other with astonishment, wondering what could be meant by "watermelons," and walking in his sleep. It was evident to Richard that only a few of his companions understood the reflections cast upon him. There he stood, trembling, as it were, in the balance, and ready to be carried up or down by this new and most terrible trial—up into a higher sphere of virtue, or down into a deeper degradation than any he had yet fathomed.
"I will be true to myself!" said he to himself, after he had stood silent for a moment, blushing with shame, and assailed by the foe without and the foe within.
His clinched fist unclosed, the muscles relaxed, and though his face was still red, a smile of triumph played upon his lips.
"Will you go, Watermelons?" sneered Redman.
"I will not," replied Richard.
"Shut up, Redman," interposed Nevers, who entirely mistook the singular change which had come over Richard's countenance. "Come, Grant, you and I will talk it over alone;" and he took his arm, and led him away from the crowd.
"You see we know all about these things," continued Nevers, "but we don't want to be hard upon you. Only about a dozen of us know any thing about those scrapes."
"Who told you about them?" asked Richard.
"That's nothing to the purpose. You are a good fellow, Grant, and I advise you to join us; if you do, not a fellow shall ever say a word about watermelons or sleep-walking."
"I will not join you, whatever you say and whatever you do."