"I was brought up with them," said Stover, trying to fortify his position.
"You don't mean it," said McCarty, looking hard at Baxter. "Cheyenne, he's just the man to train up that little pet rattler of yours."
"Just the thing," said Cheyenne instantly; "we'll let him take out the fangs."
Stover smiled a superior smile; he was not to be caught on such tales.
"What are you smiling at, Freshman?" said McCarty immediately.
"Nothing, sir."
Butsey White, at the second-story window, scanning the road, perceived Mr. Jenkins approaching, and announced the fact, adding:
"Send him up; he belongs to me."
"Make a nice bow, Freshman," said McCarty. "Take your hat off, keep your heels together. Oh, that wasn't a very nice bow. Try again."
At this moment Jimmy, returning on the stage, reined in with a sudden interest. Stover hastily executed a series of grotesque inclinations and, grasping the clumsy valise, disappeared behind the door, hearing; as he struggled up the stairs, the roar from without that greeted his departure.